You’re so weak for My elixir, especially when it’s being spat so intensely… you love the way it feels clapping you in the face, the way My leftover spit smells as it rolls down your pathetic face… not to mention, you get weak off the sound alone. The way I scrape My tongue scares the fuck out of you because you know that the spit you’re about to catch is more powerful than you could ever be. You’re never going to stop binging on My spit… all month long you’ll be denying yourself in order to please Me and earn permission to catch every last drop.