Speak up, you bitch.
It's 10:43am, and the franklin jr. high marching band launches into a medley of michael jackson's "thriller", "we wish you a merry christmas", and "jingle bells". We(the parade) all burst into tears, instantly.
Down-the-street-neighbor's cousin is suffering from kundalini syndrome. Aint shit that can help her now, not even me.
And last, according to conversations among juggalo(e)s(?) overheard at westlake center, some girl named crystal is talking shit.
Down-the-street-neighbor's cousin is suffering from kundalini syndrome. Aint shit that can help her now, not even me.
And last, according to conversations among juggalo(e)s(?) overheard at westlake center, some girl named crystal is talking shit.