(Untitled)

[vampiric_swarm]

Why do people think I care about card games anymore?
Does true love actually exist?
Why do I want to cry?
Why do I feel that im drifting away form my friends?
Why does everything go wrong for me?
Why do I just want to give up? again.

I just dont care anymore....Nothing ever goes right for me, everythin I do ends in hell.

Comments

Everett is back... in ghetto style!

[the_real_jibby]

Everett's Corner: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yah nah mean? I really can't help you with your pyschomological orders, perhaps yo' nearest street pharmacist can help you wit' dat. I think he can prescribe some crack, meth, or heroin. That'll make you happy and you will feel otay. Well anyway, about yo' women problems... the advice I can give you is dis. First off, don't listen to punk @$$ whitey muthafuckas like Clark Westfield, when it comes to the b*tches. Cause he can still count how many bitches he's been wit' on one hand. And he's gon' apeshit over one girl in particular. But we won't go dere right now. My advice to you on the girlies is dis. It takes game and challenge to get mo' pussy, and apparently you ain't got none. But besides that fact, women are either stuck-up bitches or stuck-up bitches/ho's. Cause you can't turn a ho into a housewife, ho's ain't act right! If it was so easy, then crackas like Clark Westfield would have some... but it ain't. It's very competitive, nowadays. They want a guy wit' the biggest muscles, dong, and wallet. You just got to figga what yo' personal attributes is, and expand upon upon dat sh*t. My advice to you is to go fo' the slutty b*tches. They easy, you take 'em out fo' a Happy Meal... and den you give 'em some Colt .45... cause it works ev'ry tine. Den you takes dem to yo' crib or the nearest garbage dumpster.. and you do what's you gots to do's. Just do yo'self a fava and bag yo'self. After all you don't know where Clark Westfield's been, oh wait... he ain't gettin any. Or betta yet, you don't know what I've skeeved. You ain't wants what I gots! Trust me on that one, brovah. Now if dat don't work and you can't get her drunk enough to date rape her @$$, and you ain't got no roofies, you combine yo K-Mart paychecks wit' some of yo' other dorky friends, and get yo'self a hooka. Den you get laid, and she'll get paid. And den I'll take my 80% Pimp Fee. I can supply you wit' one, but I's sho I's gon' git myself orrested, so we'll not speak on dat. Anyway, ya nah mean, b*tch? Peace!