SPORTY SPICE IS YOUR ONLY FRIEND!

I know it's not wrong that she only feels comfortable when everything---everything---is wrecked, but see, you see, Our Sporty Spice is pretty fukkin' vulnerable tonight. Yes, she's even asking God why He has to be this way, and yes, she knows the answer already, the only answer even possible: The Usual Nothing.

She asks anyway, maybe pretends that she has at last got the attention of Someone who never paid attention to Us before ("God in Three Persons, trapped!" she might exclaim, only if.)

Now, in a backwater, from the furthest reaches, out of East of Nowhere, way outside, here comes the Umpteenth Anti-Christ, and now Sporty rings out a worldwide alarm, no one nowhere does not know and all us fux pay no attention. In this New Now, it's left to Our Sporty Spice, she saves Western Civilization (which she worse than despises) again, and Now, most likely, she's horribly damaged in the effort, and sadly, Post-War, these specific symptoms, her Fuckin' War Injuries soon become The World-Wide New Emblems of Occidental Female Sexuality.

Sporty sells Stupid Sad Sex to YOU for decades and--for then, for now, for always ever----Look Around----SS has without killing one worthless Alpha Primate-Image-of-Highfather-King-Christ-Holy-Ghost AKA the Anti-Devils Kill Squad, she has from yesterday, until today, and going forward from here toward what? The Stupid Sick High-Hilarity Fact of all of this is that, you might as well face it, chum, Our Sporty Spice has without any effort at all taken over almost all of this in every way Wrong and Worse-than-Worthless So-Called "Spaceship Earth." [Please Kill Me!]

And for then, for now, and always and ever...witness the True Last Collapse of the West...certainly this is...finally...at last [!]...most truly...Sporty Spice World!

Get bent, ya Flowerpots!