<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Insult on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/insult/</link><description>Recent content in Insult on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Fri, 29 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/insult/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Beg For It</title><link>/stories/2017/09/29/beg-for-it/</link><pubDate>Fri, 29 Sep 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/09/29/beg-for-it/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Do not use without the author’s permission.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“Fuck off, scumbag.”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Sonny was hurt. All he had asked for was some spare change for a cup of coffee, and this rich-bitch cunt had all but kicked him in the balls. Dressed in her expensive suit and talking on her smart phone like she was the fuckin’ Queen of Sheba or something. She thought she was so superior, walking down the street with that toned gym body, perfect hair, and designer fucking shoes. Screw her. She was worse than many of the others. He had hoped that the recent gentrification of the neighborhood would mean more handouts, but that was not the case at all.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>