The stock is empty. in our eyeball store. All we got left. a few cataracts and sores. The faggot mimic machine. never had ideas. Mission impossible. they self destruct on fear. On a standard New York night. ghouls go to see their so called stars. A fairly stupid thing. to pay 5 bucks for a 4th rate imitators. They say I'm so empty. no surface no depth. Oh please can I be you. your personality's so great. Like new buildings. square tall and the same. Sorry Miss Stupid. didn't you know it was a game. I'm just waiting. for them to hurry up and die. It's really getting to crowed here. help me New York stars. Contributions accepted all the same. We need new people store. remember we're very good at games.