I saw Uncle Ray straight-up cryin'!

I saw him shed an ole tear! sucker straight up welled, right all at the end of that tom hanks flick The Terminal, where the russian guy lives at the airport. he din't peep me cause I was stealthin around workin on my paintball skillz. straight up tha Unc dabbed his tears and wiped them on the couch cushions! now I gotta get me a bean bag or something cause I sure as shizzito ain't sittin in his Emotionzz wet spot anymore.

his tears took three minutes to abate!

mistah H is a straight-up tinytime hoe

mr Hanolan dick ragged me, all. Hanolan's the trick daddy of computer class, and he flip-wigged when he saw my book armor. I had most of a trimmed cookie sheet drilled to my Understanding Computers hardback, all. Hanolan puss-pussied at that!

I was like Chill, Hanolan, lots of computers also have metal parts, as my textbook now has. He ain't had a syllable of that. He flipped and touched the fuse that hung out he own azz which summons the principle.

principal defenbaugh cold rolled in, knowing Hanolan been a nutjob since Bananas magazine. he ID'd that the book I screwed platelets all to was a discontinued copy and that Hanolan had no need to police that ish.

damn but aint it great that defenbaughbaugh plays in Uncle Ray's foursome some days, plus out all, it's a tight-as-a-hooley night.

Where I been, y'all?

none 'a yo b-yo. school is a mad dirtle latez, tha teach hell all on my back about not coverin my books with the grocery bags cause I instead used my imaginizzle and stone screwed metal plates to all the outside surfaces. my old algebra shrieker almost laid a sweet spot in the backa her tweedz when my A-Team cold rolled into class and hit tha desk like an iron steak. folks hella peered around and I could see the green in they eyes. come the bell I was sellin' blueprints and supply lists so all tha lemmings could create cold home depot clankers of they own. sucker teachs don't know my armored book revo' is gonna save a kid from a bullet one day, and they gonna rename the gym after me, ain't gonna be no J. Vincent J. Lemoni gymnazium, gonna have flamin' letters on the side spellin out THA LEWD all above the statue of me holdin my metal book with a bullet hole ins.

fuck that azn gangsta wannabe!

a little back y'all I laid it down about how Shirley Pang's old-country boyfriend tried to shank me, straight jumping me at Swensen's! all was down low the last couple weeks, but check it, today I was grufflin' some Arby's and the dude cold rolls up in his ricer!

purple puss cold aimed a barrel at me, but that ain't no. I yelled "rice boy ready fo' his money shot!?" and pointed up. he saw the security cam and yelled at his driver out to pull forward, but the camera cold followed them. I gave between-tha-bunzz tongue love to my Big Montana while they tried to dodge the lens. I got the plate and Uncle Ray ran it—he is chum pals with the police sergeant—and he got me their address with full blue backup. Uncle Ray and I got mad different ideas on my days, but blood is blood. he wanna see his LN avenged.

blue dropped me a couple blocks from this azn's hole-up, and I tiptoe the rest, cold same clothes as lunchtime, kevlar under the K. Malone. I see the civic in question, and I nod to blue, who pull up and cut the gas.

I'm all about a light step up their apartment stairs, and through their window I can see them workin their xbox on a Phillips fiddy. I wave a couple blues up and they bust down the door. I got a good look at the b/j who dry-iced me, and mock-capped him as they dragged him by.

sweet-ass night, all. gonna puff some dill and consider some ink on the premises, probly that mad band around the bicep, cold initials all worked in.

damn, beef!

dammmn but beef and his ho was holed up in the pool house all week! my stash was straight up unreachable while they were all dug into there, all having the only key, and I was jonesin for my trick bag. my roman candles, sidewinders, m-80s, n.o.2, vitamin H, all that was outta my grip. I was stone resorted to pinchin white wine outta uncle ray's little fridge and makin vinegar volcanoes, yo. ain't never there been a more pitiful player than that. I hang my head, all. Pour out a 40oz chardonnay and meet me at the crossroads.

kid klink

leapfrog and tha oracle and nicky went to juvie, yo! ha ha ha ha ha! turns out they hosted some pic of a naked kid on that site they edged me out of, and the judge plopped three months on 'em to make an example! fools got dusted and I'm here plain as day, stone cold not arrested. maybe it's time to celebrate with a hooley and a cigar in the hot tub, since uncle ray is down at the golf course. I'ma sit in the water in my trunks, showin my perfect nipples to anyone who comes by, word.

tanglin' with a korean dude

I was makin nice with Shirley Pang last week, this real ripe honey in econ. she dug me, I dug her fly buds, all that. even had her out at swensen's last week for some ice cream and nook. turns out though that she has this jealous korean ex boyfriend who shows up and springs a knife in my face! he cold cocked my knees from behind and held this dagger up to my neck and was all "you shray away flom shrirreyrrerry you pok bitch" and I straight up eyed him. I can tell poultry from miles and this dude was straight up boneless skinless. he did little samurai movements with the knife and marched off, and I'll be skinning his snuffly ass next time he brings the stainless. I ain't even that into Shirley but I might press a point here, just to take the juice outta that dirt dog.

sup sup Miz Gerry

so I straight up plucked a miz gerry friday, easy as pie! kind of a critter, all drunked and crunked, ain't gonna be tellin, plus I boosted fifty bucks outta her purse when she was crappin or whatever it is old ladyz do after they get with Tha Nephew. just to make sure she ain't gonna be back next week I leaned out the window and threw all her underpants at her as she was leavin through tha crowd. skunked, crunked, punked. LN took a brew shine and brought the green gurgles to a nasty xbox session of Soul Duster.

screw those fools

man ain't leapfrog or nobody budged since they edged me outta the buxx. some kind of pricks, tha oracle's dad probably taught them how to out-prick everybody, that's all he does all day at Oracle for a living. I think his job is to like pour acid on other companies. dick. kumar im'd me but I don't wanna hang out with his pussy ass tonight and play pictionary so I'm just gonna cool it around here, maybe pick up on tha Miz gerries or lift a few wallets. it's a dog weekend.

leapfrog is hell of a cock, yo!

leapfrog is hell of a cock, yo! he ain't givin me any cut of the revenues, since accordin to him he and tha oracle and nicky did all the work and I didn't do nothin. bull-honkey! I straight up thought up the logo, which is some tits comin' out of a computer monitor, plus who sprung for all that pizza on the big launch night?!

I tried to hack the website but all I could do was make the browser list all the files in a directory. man, I don't know how to hack. do I gotta get all DOS prompt?

tha buxxmaker

this site is bankin it in yo! we finally got all the categories cooked up and already we got like 500 subscribes, just on day 1. check it, don't wreck it:

categories at our website
1. leapfrog's uncle shittin on things
2. burned up bodies
3. naked army chicks in the shower
4. exploded bodies
5. run over bodies
6. misc

you gotta have a misc when you're doin somethin like this. some crazy shit goes down in wartime, and you can't make a whole category for a single jpg of leapfrog's uncle jumping a motorcycle into a lake.

webMastah'

tha oracle set us all up in some fat ISP account that his dad gets thru Oracle and since nicky did a triple last summer in web design he arranged all the photos and stuff. There was a ton of nasty action on that camera and we had to really put our brains together thinking of how to organize all of it. like there was this one fifteen-shot sequence of leapfrog's uncle trying to take a shit on a quarter, and that should all go in its own category obviously, but what about when his uncle's takin a shit on stuff that ain't money? web design is a hard gig, yo. pease to the brothers that keep amazon in buttons and drop-downs.

Nasty!

leapfrog's uncle is in the marines or whatever and we boosted his digital camera outta his bag when he got back from iraq! he was in the kitchen eatin ham and rolls with the fam while we duped the jpgs. just the nastiest, photos of a dude all burned up with just teeth showing, a murdered head sitting by a log with one open white eye, even one of his uncle taking a shit behind a tank! we're gonna start a website, there are over 500 pics on this camera! hello benjamins

Squeeze squeezes

uncle ray has this big old wooden crate of LPs that I plunder when I need some new vinyl to scratch over at tha oracle's. dude has a wicked setup in his room and a soundproof door, yo, so we scratch at all hours. this time I found vintage Beastie Boys wax that gave up some sick samples and breakdowns, and we cribbed mad material from this old Puff Daddy album. I also grabbed one by some band called Squeeze, just the gayest, and threw it straight at a rock on the way home. Squeeze a nerd and get a turd, word.

jackasses!

oh man we jackassed it all day with tha oracle's new video camera! first knicknack ate a whole chocolate cake and drank a carton of milk and we rolled him down a grass hill at the park. he did a couple little pukes and then spewed a gusher down the slide! some moms was pissed off so we took to kumar's place. we had kumar put a turtleneck on, but just around his neck, and we pulled the rest of it over his head and put in like fifty eggs. then we took turns hittin him with a wiffle ball bat. yolks was leakin everywhere! later on after terence's dad passes out six of us are gonna piss on him in a move we're callin the Six Pouches. watch your noggins, kenny loggins.

school eats tha wad

aw man, school is startin again and that eatzz tha wad. only consolation is that I be pullin up to the b-sides every day in the halls, all with my bonito. we ain't wearin backpacks this year we decided, we're carryin briefcases, straight up handcuffed to our wrists! mad style, a drop of sweat on the teacher's brow as they silently freak out. touch a creek, freak!

sick!

cory's uncle broke his neck! he was ridin' on his ATV and pretty hooleyed, and he got thrown and his neck just snapped! we were freakin out! helicopters came and took him away and cory was crying all over the place. they say his uncle can't walk any more or use his arms, like that metallica video. that is so ill. I am shook, so read a book, crook.

ditchin' this place

cory's uncle has a couple ATVs and he's takin us with him to the desert this weekend, we're gonna get sick-shifty on some dunes! I boosted uncle ray's paypal account to the tune of a new ipod so i'll be rockin' with dokken all there and back. also got some mad fireworks stashed in the duffel, stuff you can't light off around here cause the cops hell of peer up your shizzito. Buy a dog, blog.

Blackberry got tha golden shower

wicked word I was straight hooleyed over at leapfrog's houseparty and tryin to blackberry knicknack to get his poor ass over there, only I was blackberryin at the same time I was makin my lighting and I dropped that bad plastic daddy in the bowl, which sucked. now I gotta lift a fat G outta uncle ray's red shoebox for another one, pain in my ass. that's all I got to say so yall get on your way!

Campin' wit da H.O.O.L.I.E.S.

since kumar is such a pissface he got hooleyed at kammy's and broke this hinge lamp and her parents come runnin downstairs so we got to ditch out. I boosted this one ash tray with a gold coin in it that looks all civil war an shit. so anyhow since we failed with the b-sides, all us looted up and camped up on the hill behind tha oracle's house, all by some oak trees. hoolies and sizzled up dogs was the order of business and we hoboed it to tha gums. tha oracle mad showstopped when he lifted this 50 year-old scotch outta his bag, sayin it was three grand and his dad had plenty more (his dad penny loafs up at Oracle computer whatever, loaded out the b-side, that's why we call him tha oracle). next mornin we all woke up with mad brainworms and couldn't move without pukin so we were eight trick headaches sittin in sleepin bags tryin not to piss ourselves til the pain went away. that's all, shaved ball.