11 f' yous of myspace.
Fuck You number ONE
There is NO SUCH THING as a MySpace Tracker.
It does NOT exist. So quit posting stupid bulletins like
"OH-MY-GOD this WORKS!!!"
No, it doesnt.
Fuck You number TWO.
To the people who have like 25,000 friends;
Are you fucking serious?
You're stupid.
Go play in traffic.
Fuck you number THREE.
Don't ever post pictures and say:
"OMG, I'm so ugly"
because if you were, you wouldn't post them.
If you do you're a fucking moron.
Fuck you number FOUR.
NOBODY cares about threats over the internet,
so don't try to act hardcore with the keyboard.
Fighting online is like racing in the Special Olympics;
Even if you win, you're still retarded.
Fuck you number FIVE.
Quit crying because you're not on someones 'Top 8'.
Who cares?!?
ITS MYSPACE!!!
If you really cared that much, you would
pick up the damn phone!
Fuck you number SIX.
Who really cares if I don't accept you as a friend?
MOVE ON!!!
Don't send me another request or message asking
"What's up with you not adding me?"
I don't want you as a friend, that's what's up,
Asshole....
Fuck you number SEVEN.
Young teen girls who have MySpace and look like sluts,
and act like whores; and young teen boys that think they
are pimps...
Go somewhere else because nobody wants you here
like that.
And Parents -
Quit blaming MySpace for your kid being a hooker,
she was a whore before MySpace,
and she'd be a whore without it!
What does that say about your parenting skills?
Think about it!
Fuck you number EIGHT.
If you have decided to read this, you are a true MySpace Friend.
Real friends read their bulletins,
except for the ones about those fucking ringtones....
Fuck you number NINE.
I say you go and pass this on and maybe it will finally get through people's brains
Fuck you number TEN.
If you open a bulletin and it says something like repost this in 100 seconds or a ghost will rape you tonight, or some dead bitch is going to rape your mom - quit being dumb!
Fuck you number ELEVEN.
Myspace was created to keep up with friends.
Quit trying to check up on your ex!!
Come on, now, people, its called stalking...you might as well be sitting in front of their house with binoculars.