Bye Train Boy!

Train boy had truly been buggin'! Note to self: don't give out your number when you are feeling bad about yourself.
Sigh.
Where do I begin. After literally the 20th call from Train, I decided firmly that he was crazy and decided to really ignore his calls and serial texts. Here is the result in text message:
Train: Dang ma y u dont want 2 tlk 2 me wats up wit dat
Me: I'm working
Train: (Texts pic of his weewee)
Me: I don't appreciate that, don't contact me again.
Train: (under weewee pic)I hope like this i really want 2 put this inside of & just punish you for ingnoring my calls
Me: No, don't contact me again. Thank u
Train: Fuck u fat ass bitch u r a big ass slob better b glad somebody want 2 holla i just wanted 2 fuck a fat ass woman atleast 1 x just 2 know how ur fat shake
Me: CONTACT ME AGAIN AND I WILL FILE A REPORT ON YOU WITH THE POLICE!
Train: This is the only mutha fuckn way I can get ur attention bitch yall stankn ass ho's dont like when a nigga b nice so im going 2 give u wat u want :)
Me: Consider the police called.
Train: Take you fat FEMA ass back to baton rouge (sidebar: why he assumed I was from there, not sure) ho was sum of fuckin fat pockets that have to come here to polute my city with your bad body order and fuck po po
Train: Fat bitch i don't give a flyn fuck wat do this is not my phone so do u miss piggie
The end. Disrepected yet again by a loser that didn't deserve my time in the first place. Next.