on this post
there would be tales where one wouldnt know whether to believe or not to believe.
there would be women and fine alcohol and exotic inebriants. there would be malibu balconies and waves crashing against sea walls. thered be sunsets and moonrises.
theres be the most beautiful lies intertwined with fascinating truths.
theres be fake and real boobs.
somewhere someone would be spinning the good tunes. thered be people youve paid money to see and some you only know from the interweb.
at times like this back in the day thered be stories and stories during which my mouth was wide open like omg omg thered be a lesson or two at the end and me saying something like i cant believe this is happening to a wretch like me.
luck would be a theme but after seven years of these tales wouldnt you think that luck cant flow down the mountain into one mans life continually? thus maybe there has to be something else at heart. but what?
oh the stories that would have been written. however these are different times. no way could times be better for your hero. ive sold out. i dont rock with the old school any more. all my friends are parents. my hairs no longer gray its not even there. plus im fat. plus my 94 sentra — how on earth do you valet a 94 sentra at a party off pch in 2008 and get away with it?
sure nothing in here is true but she wasnt even in high school when the busblog was new.
no i dont believe it. no i dont trust it. no i never asked for it. loudly. plus im a pc.