<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861</id><updated>2011-08-20T09:53:11.402-04:00</updated><title type='text'>below the influence.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>110</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7436345892402794221</id><published>2010-01-06T09:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-06T09:15:42.420-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>today might as well be the day of my death. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one will be hearing from me ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i promise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7436345892402794221?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7436345892402794221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7436345892402794221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2010/01/today-might-as-well-be-day-of-my-death.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5221077920315069260</id><published>2009-11-12T19:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T19:39:54.861-05:00</updated><title type='text'>MEOW!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;object width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ciMoWyW1hDw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ciMoWyW1hDw&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial, sans-serif;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 10px; white-space: pre;"&gt;Does anyone else besides me wanna sleep with Trey Songz now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5221077920315069260?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5221077920315069260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5221077920315069260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/11/meow.html' title='MEOW!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5452795793316579753</id><published>2009-11-03T18:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T18:08:37.666-05:00</updated><title type='text'>ROFFLE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'MS Shell Dlg'; font-size: 13px; white-space: pre; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; "&gt;&lt;object width="448" height="374"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshhoKSLlCUc266IYJ63"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.worldstarhiphop.com/videos/e/16711680/wshhoKSLlCUc266IYJ63" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="448" height="374"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5452795793316579753?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5452795793316579753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5452795793316579753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/11/roffle.html' title='ROFFLE!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7891905223830345069</id><published>2009-10-21T21:23:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T21:31:05.701-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What is love?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:arial, fantasy;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 14px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; "&gt;In true consonantal structure, LOVE and LAW are the same word; they also have the same spiritual meaning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The consonantal structure of LOVE is LV. The consonantal structure of LAW is LW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Approximately a millenium ago, the letter 'U' was transformed into the letter 'V'. Approximately 500 years ago, 'V' was transformed into 'W' ("double-U"). 'W' is comprised of two 'U's or two 'V's. The letters U, V and W are the same letter linguistically, thus 'Sweden' is pronounced 'Sveden' in Swedish; 'Vodka' is pronounced 'Wodka' in Russian; 'Volkswagon' is pronounced 'Wolsvagon' in German. This same principle applies to 'Law' and 'Love'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Afrikan perspective, to be "in love" with someone is to be "in law" with that person: to function in harmony with Divine Order in regards to your interaction with that person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Divine Law / Love is the expression of Divine Order. To be in love is to be in harmony and in law with someone. If someone is "lovable", it is because he or she is lawful. He or she functions in harmony with Order, thereby manifesting "beauty".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the language of ancient KMT ("Egypt"), the terms for Law and Love are maa and mar, respectively. The term maa (law) and mar (love) are both indicated in heiroglyphics with the symbol of the Divine eye. This Divine Eye represents the divine insight of the Creator. To align yourself with the Divine Eye is to avail yourself to the ability to see the truth, that is to see the law governing Creation. When you align yourself with Divine insight, you are aligning yourself with Divine Law. You are then showing love. You are showing commitment to Divine Order. You are now in law / love, that is, you are "in-sight-ful(l). You are in the sight / scope of the Creator's Divine Order. Furthermore, the eye is the organ through which attraction is confirmed. Making eye contact is a common way one shows his or her law / love towards another person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the word for love, desire in the Twi language of the Akan is 'pe', which is the root of mpena (lover). The term Mpena is also written as 'mpra', or 'mpara'. The term for Law in Twi is Mmara or Mbra. Mbra (Love) and Mpra (Law) are closely related in spelling and sound, and have the same root. Afrikans have always recognized the reality that Law and Love are one and the same and are Divine. This is why promiscuity, infidelity and divorce are so frowned on by traditional Afrikan societies: We should not fall in and out of love (law), for we should not fall in and out with that which is Divine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'segoe script', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 15px;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"    style="font-family:'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;font-size:100%;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" line-height: 14px;font-size:11px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);   line-height: 15px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:-webkit-xxx-large;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7891905223830345069?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7891905223830345069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7891905223830345069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/10/what-is-love_21.html' title='What is love?'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8854420837997730049</id><published>2009-10-16T16:37:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-21T21:22:43.955-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm making love to every woman I lust.</title><content type='html'>Man, I haven't been on the blog shit in a minute. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lemme tell you, so much has went down. First, the sidekick network has been down for like 3 weeks and that shit STILL isn't up. Not only would the phone NOT connect to the internet, but when I went to the T-Mobile store 3 Fridays ago, they took my battery and sim card out of my phone, and as a result I lost ALL of my contacts. FML, foreal. THEN my phone's screen kept freezing and glitching AND it wouldn't read my SD card. -Takes a deep breath- So T-Mobile decided to send me ANOTHER Sidekick, but not the same one I have. Something about they don't make that model Sidekick LX anymore, so they sent me a Sidekick 2008. What year is it again? So yeah, I was pretty much pissed because they were sending me phone who's network was down. SMH, poor customer service. Upon reciving my new device [Sidekick 2008], I later discovered after many atempts to talk to Josh on it that it was broken as well. So yeah, they pretty much sent me a broken phone to replace my old broken phone. Blah, so this Wednesday I decided to finally ditch the fuck ass Sidekicks and join the Blackberry family. Ahh, and yes it is so wonderful here. May I say Blackberry Curve 8900 for the mother fucking win. Mhm. Vontage on deck, baby. LOL, insider.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secondly, the day I got my broken Sidekick 2008 my computer got a virus. So yeah, I'm pretty much lap topless. Which means, no real internet for me-bummer-as well as no listening to or downloading music. Someone shoot me in the head please. I'm ditching all the lap top companies: HP, Toshiba, Dell, Gateway, Sony...etc. and I'm gonna roll with a Mac. Holla at a bad bitch when you see one. I mean, it's about damn time. Josh and I have been talking about it forever. Plus, this is the second lap top I've had that I've lost to a virus and Mac's don't get viruses. So pretty soon, I'll be welcomed by everyone in the Apple|Mac family. I can't wait.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Besides my technology crisis, everything has been going pretty swell. Me and my sexy Italian husband are beyond wonderful. I love every waking moment I get to share with him. We've been EXTRA sweet to each other for unknown reasons. LOL, I guess it's tripping him out cause he's always mentioning how sweet I'm being to him everyday. If you know his blogger shit, I'm sure you've noticed he's taken this opportunity of catching up to my blog posts since I'm lowkey out of commission right now. I pretty much use my grandparent's computer when I'm at their house to check my lame ass social websites and to blog. But I think I'm actually gonna start blogging via BB Curve cause I like to be at home. IDK, it just feels like they're over my shoulder reading my thoughts. Shit feels weird. LOL baby, POS! POS! I'm so dead. Whew, soooo many inside jokes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Damn, Tay got really sick this week. She had a fever of 103 at school. Her fever was so high she was having seizures. The stupid fucking school nurse called me and was like, "Yes, Ms. Dawson, it's not an emergency, but does Taylor have a history of seizures? The teacher was monitoring her and she was trembling." BITCH YOU DON'T THINK THAT'S A FUCKING EMERGENCY?! Bruh, I have never been so got damn mad with the world or a damn person in my life. I basically stopped everything, went and got Tay, took her to the doctor to get her checked. They confirmed she did have a seizure, but only because her temperature was so high. Everything else checked out find. She took two days out of school to rest up and bring her fever down to normal. I then later realized that she called me Ms. Dawson and not Ms. Fye. Either way, that's me though. Man, then the same Josh got sick too and had a fever of 102. =[ Both my babies been sick man. It sucks cause I could only physically take care of one. But coming soon, things will be different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Expound? Well, originally Josh was going to move here to Atlanta in December, but we did some talking and basically Tay and I are gonna move to VA. -Does the cabbage patch- When we're all initially together, everything is going to be perfect. I'm gonna have my little baby and my big baby and we're gonna be one big happy family. &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#FF0000;"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/span&gt; That's all I want. Me, Tay and Josh together FOREVER. The end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm off this shit though. I'm about to go home, kick back and wait for Josh to call me. I'll probably pull up this Pandora application and listen to this Maxwell station I created. Ow! I'm gone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="  line-height: 15px; font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8854420837997730049?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8854420837997730049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8854420837997730049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/10/im-making-love-to-every-woman-i-lust.html' title='I&apos;m making love to every woman I lust.'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1849860258651306123</id><published>2009-10-07T10:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-16T21:58:14.687-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy anniversary baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I was almost murdered and crushed by a school bus on my way to the house this morning. Josh talking about he would’ve went AWOL, came down here and killed err’body if anything would’ve happened to me. Aww, how can you top that? You can’t, so stop trying already little daddy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;About last night. I feel better. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Josh called me. Things didn’t start off so well, but we always end on a good note. All on key and shit like that, lol. Foreal, though. It was almost like I smoked a blunt and took a few shots. That man always keeps me high, on some real shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I love you baby. You’re probably the only person that understands me, the only person that can keep me from falling apart. You’ve said it before, that I’m the only bitch that understands you. I finally understand where you’re coming from. We go hand in hand like the moon and the sun, like ying and yang. We balance each other out.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;There was not one single soul who could get my mind off these issues. Not one man. Then he showed up like my knight in shinning armour, “Lemme ease your mind, bring you in my world” on some Boosie shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Imagine a life where not one single person understood you. Would that be a life worth living? I say no. Let it marinate, you’ll be agreeing with a real bitch before you know it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'segoe script', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span   class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;  font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1849860258651306123?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1849860258651306123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1849860258651306123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/10/9-months-and-shittttt.html' title='Happy anniversary baby'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1910141279973156389</id><published>2009-10-06T22:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T22:13:47.786-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I’ve been having second thoughts about a lot of things lately. IDK man. I guess I’ll just sit back and observe the situation for a while before I make any final decisions. Or before I…I don’t even know. Man. I have even doubted myself. Aint that some shit? I can’t even trust myself. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m just gonna keep to myself about everything, for now man. Maybe I’m tripping or some shit. It’s like I feel alone, but I’m not alone. Feel me? That’s my greatest fear right there, being alone. I aint even gonna lie though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Man, foreal though. Fuck this blog shit right now.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, I’m gonna kick back with these head phones in my ear and let the music take me away. If there isn’t one single person who can understand me, there is always music. Before there was anyone, there was music. And in the end, music will still be there.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And that’s real.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1910141279973156389?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1910141279973156389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1910141279973156389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/10/ive-been-having-second-thoughts-about.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2369497542043437203</id><published>2009-10-01T21:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T21:18:22.813-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eagle Woods Academy</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So, anyone who’s anyone who knows me, know that I work out of two schools: The Shadow Rock Center and Eagle Woods Academy. Let’s just say something ingteresting things happened early yesterday morning. This is what Fox News had to say about the “situation” that happened at Eagle Woods Academy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;h3&gt;Student Opens Extinguishers in School&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p&gt;DEKALB COUNTY, Ga. - Dekalb County school officials said a student at Eagle Woods Academy opened fire extinguishers which shattered nearby windows and damaged a door.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A few teachers and students had to be checked out by doctors because of the fumes.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Dekalb County school officials said they'll take appropriate measures to address the student responsible and the damage done.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" id="video" width="320" height="280" data="http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/video/videoplayer.swf"&gt;&lt;param value="http://www.myfoxatlanta.com/video/videoplayer.swf" name="movie" /&gt;&lt;param value="&amp;amp;skin=MP1ExternalAll-MFL.swf&amp;amp;embed=true&amp;amp;adSrc=http%3A%2F%2Fad%2Edoubleclick%2Enet%2Fadx%2Ftsg%2Ewaga%2Fnews%2Fdetail%3Bdcmt%3Dtext%2Fxml%3Bpos%3D%3Btile%3D2%3Bsz%3D320x240%3Bord%3D335333118215203260%3Frand%3D0%2E10208277683422109&amp;amp;flv=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Emyfoxatlanta%2Ecom%2Ffeeds%2FoutboundFeed%3FobfType%3DVIDEO%5FPLAYER%5FSMIL%5FFEED%26componentId%3D130709043&amp;amp;img=http%3A%2F%2Fmedia2%2Emyfoxatlanta%2Ecom%2F%2Fphoto%2F2009%2F09%2F30%2F093009%5Fhayes%5F12n%5F1%5Ftmb0000%5F20090930122856%5F640%5F480%2EJPG&amp;amp;story=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Emyfoxatlanta%2Ecom%2Fdpp%2Fnews%2FStudent%5FOpens%5FExtinguishers%5Fin%5FSchool%5F093009" name="FlashVars" /&gt;&lt;param value="all" name="allowNetworking" /&gt;&lt;param value="always" name="allowScriptAccess" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;SMH. Let me tell you, this kid man went RAMBO through out the school. Four teachers were hospitalized. There were police cars everywhere as well as helicopters. The superintendent was also spotted showing up at the school. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;They wanna cut our hours and not give us annual raises and we have to deal with this. PSSSH! I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t raising a lot of eye brows from teachers and paras. The entire school was evacuated, dog.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ON TOP OF THAT&lt;/strong&gt;. There was a student today who was threatening to bring a gun to school and shoot everyone because “he can’t take it anymore.” WTF. It’s been rumored from other employees that this student has a violent history and is “gun happy.” Thank God, there was an audio|video recording of the young man where he is making these threats. It has been turned in and will hopefully be taken care of.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This is what I deal with for my lousy pay. FML.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2369497542043437203?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2369497542043437203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2369497542043437203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/10/eagle-woods-academy.html' title='Eagle Woods Academy'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8324763778159350394</id><published>2009-10-01T20:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T20:22:44.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SCREENSHOT!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;Yeah, I aint did this shit in minute.    &lt;br /&gt;Hehe, but you gotta see how conceited Josh is.     &lt;br /&gt;But you know, I agree with him though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVFlqHFFNI/AAAAAAAAAoc/V3XMBp_FDJY/s1600-h/screenshot4%5B19%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="screenshot4" border="0" alt="screenshot4" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVFlyjSLqI/AAAAAAAAAog/JUqXDL92km4/screenshot4_thumb%5B17%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="376" height="242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVFmCpDUSI/AAAAAAAAAok/IEMmig4rxE8/s1600-h/screenshot5%5B28%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="screenshot5" border="0" alt="screenshot5" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVFmNdR8XI/AAAAAAAAAoo/Gv78BESvImQ/screenshot5_thumb%5B26%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="375" height="242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160; LOL @ my phone dying and shit and my shit being disconnected to Y!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;But anyway, look at this nigga.    &lt;br /&gt;That nigga J. Will, he’s so foineee.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;↓&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVEYjAQTbI/AAAAAAAAAos/oEj1ncYr9xk/s1600-h/yomyomyom2%5B23%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="yomyomyom2" border="0" alt="yomyomyom2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVD8hNYHaI/AAAAAAAAAo0/t0VlwiTX1Lw/yomyomyom2_thumb%5B22%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="300" height="331" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;I remember when I first seen him. We was at the mall, right girl? Mhm, I seen him walking by with his crew and I was like, “Damn Daddy, you fine.” He was like, “Haha, preciate it lil mama.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8324763778159350394?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8324763778159350394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8324763778159350394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/10/screenshot.html' title='SCREENSHOT!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SsVFlyjSLqI/AAAAAAAAAog/JUqXDL92km4/s72-c/screenshot4_thumb%5B17%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8321566270925557722</id><published>2009-09-30T12:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T20:06:45.009-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I want this shit forever, mayne.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Man, my job is some bullshit. Yeah I said it man. I see why people don’t give a good god damn about the school board and always complaining about certain shit. Because they’re bogus as hell. Check this, I got a letter today SEPETEMBER 30th, right? Shit is mentioning the budget and the cut backs. Nigga we gettin laid off for some bullshit, we gettin hours cut for some bullshit, they not gonna compensate us for the increase for the cost of living. WHAT THE FUCK. But the thing that pisses me off, that mother fucking letter is dated JULY 30th. –Scratches head. Aint they a little late with telling us this shit?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;FUCK MY JOB, FUCK SONNY PERDUE. FUCK EM FUCK EM FUCK EM!&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Dog, I go to work everyday for what? NOT SHIT. It’s not even worth me going in to work at 5:30 and leaving at 4:30. I might as well quit foreal. I can find me a better job that pays MORE.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I go to work everyday. I go to work so I can keep this lifestyle I live, but as each week goes by I see that shit slipping away. Now aint that some bullshit. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Shit like this make me understand why niggas hustle. Aint nobody gonna take YOUR money, aint nobody gonna tell you, you gettin laid off, taking taxes out your shit, none of that monkey ass shit. And that’s real shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;One thing I learned, is you gotta do what you gotta do to take care of yours NO MATTER WHAT. Yeah I be tired, but fuck being tired. Yeah I don’t feel good over 80% of the time, but fuck feeling good. I got to take care of mines first, which is Tay. After she’s taken care of then I’ll worry about myself. Shit nigga, I was made this strong for a reason. Work through the pain, work through the tears.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;One day all this shit gonna pay off. Maybe not, but fuck it. I got so much hatred in my heart right now man. That shit aint even right.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But I’m out though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8321566270925557722?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8321566270925557722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8321566270925557722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-want-this-shit-forever-mayne.html' title='I want this shit forever, mayne.'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7741138573195020411</id><published>2009-09-27T01:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T11:22:13.005-04:00</updated><title type='text'>fresh like the kiss of morning dew.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Segoe Script;font-size:130%;color:#8080ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“And I wonder if you’ll ever find out how it was supposed to be.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Segoe Script;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#8080ff;"&gt;-Ryan Leslie         &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sr76oD7jXCI/AAAAAAAAAmE/zB8_XibaEB8/s1600-h/ryan3%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="ryan3" border="0" alt="ryan3" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sr76oSrO-wI/AAAAAAAAAmI/qv6SWIaIkjE/ryan3_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="374" height="249" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Ay! That’s my current default ringtone. I fucking love Ryan Leslie. If there were one person in the industry that I could choose to meet, I’d KILL to meet him. I hold him up high, he’s hella talented. I’d sing for you, Ryan.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sr76o1daEdI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/5ViHiilJmic/s1600-h/ryan2%5B2%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="ryan2" border="0" alt="ryan2" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sr76pFWWu8I/AAAAAAAAAmY/TLYZOcEjwWU/ryan2_thumb%5B1%5D.png?imgmax=800" width="399" height="193" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-Blusheshard- I love this photograph. These are some talented men.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span   class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;  font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7741138573195020411?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7741138573195020411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7741138573195020411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/fresh-like-kiss-of-morning-dew.html' title='fresh like the kiss of morning dew.'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sr76oSrO-wI/AAAAAAAAAmI/qv6SWIaIkjE/s72-c/ryan3_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8058269614977631126</id><published>2009-09-27T00:40:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T11:23:39.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Tonight is one of the loneliness nights ever. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I don’t have anything to blog about. I spent the majority of my day laying around, listening to music, and sleeping. There is yet another flash flood warning until tomorrow, and it’s been pissing rain all day. God must be pissed. LOL, when it’s really hot outside I always say that Ra is vexed. Did you get it? Probably not. Anyway, I’ve been listening to alot of Incubus lately. Check the play list for two songs by them: “Dig” and “Love Hurts” Give it a listen, you won’t be disappointed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#8080ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Love hurts, but without love I won’t survive.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#8080ff;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-&lt;span style="font-family:Segoe Script;font-size:130%;"&gt;Incubus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Speaking of music, the Breaking Benjamin new album drops September 29th. I’m super stoked man. I’ve been listening to TONS of rock and alternative music lately. I suppose it coincides with my current moods. However, today was a better day for me. Of course I had an anger relapse, but sometimes it be like that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Irma and I were talking about weddings today and what we want our weddings to be like. She wants to have a small wedding on the beach. She wants to wear a simple white dress with the groom in white as well. I used to be all for the white dress just to go against it’s symbolism; being a virgin. I’m not a virgin, but even worse my innocence was revoked after I gave birth to Taylor &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&amp;lt;3&lt;/span&gt;. I mean, I was gonna do the whole white dress with white veil and all. HAHA. But as time has progressed I’ve changed my mind. I told Irma I want to wear a black dress. A long black flowing dress with a black veil. I think that would be so beautiful. Ironically it does sound like something someone wears to a funeral, but I don’t really give a shit. I look stunning in black. Plus, white makes you look fat anyway.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Secretly I’m kind of dark. I love dark colors. Maybe that’s why I love the fall and winter months so much. Dark and cold. I love black, grey, brown, dark reds, greens and purples. I also like warm colors, like dark yellows, reds, and oranges. I should google what this means about myself. –Please hold.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;h3&gt;What Color Is Your Personality?&lt;/h3&gt;  &lt;p&gt;YOUR RESULT: Naturally Green&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;People whose personalities display shades of green nurture life whole-heartedly. You are the one who takes in stray cats, tends to houseplants, and adores children. You are the peacemaker who can become the martyr if you do not look after your own needs as well.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Below are some meaning of colors:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;WHITE: White is the color that represents purity, neutrality, sterility and youth. White is often associated with cleanliness or sterility. Doctors wear white to convey these attributes.&lt;sup&gt; &lt;/sup&gt;White is also associated with neutrality and peace&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;BLACK: Black is a multi-dimensional color that can mean classic or new. It has an ominous characteristic symbolizing death. Therefore it is used in Western cultures for funerals. It has an air of intelligence, marked with rebellion. It typically symbolized absence, modernity, power, sophistication, formality, elegance, wealth, mystery, style, evil, death, fear, emptiness, darkness, seriousness, conventionality, rebellion, anarchism, unity, sorrow, professionalism, and slimming quality.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;GRAY: Gray, somewhere between white (good) and black (evil), is a blasé color. It can symbolize elegance, humility, respect, reverence, stability, subtlety, wisdom, old age, pessimism, boredom, decay, decrepitude, dullness, pollution, urban sprawl, strong emotions, balance, neutrality, mourning, formality, and March.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;RED: Red is the color of celebration and good luck (China), purity and integrity (India). Red typically symbolizes passion, strength, energy, fire, sex, love, romance, excitement, speed, heat, arrogance, ambition, leadership, masculinity, power, danger, gaudiness, blood, war, anger, revolution, radicalism, Communism, aggression, respect, martyrs, the Holy Spirit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;ORANGE: Orange is energy, enthusiasm, 'get-it-done' attitude, and balance. It typically symbolizes Hinduism, Buddhism, happiness, energy, balance, heat, fire, enthusiasm, flamboyance, playfulness, aggression, arrogance, gaudiness, over-emotion, warning, danger, autumn, desire, Sagittarius, and September. Orange has less intensity or aggression than red and is calmed by the cheerfulness of yellow.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;YELLOW: Yellow echoes the dual nature of red. Though yellow evokes feelings of happiness, when we are confronted with too much yellow we become annoyed or angered. Yellow typically symbolizes sunlight, joy, happiness, earth, optimism, intelligence, idealism, wealth (gold), summer, hope, air, liberalism, cowardice, illness (quarantine), fear, hazards, dishonesty, avarice, weakness, greed, decay or aging, femininity, gladness, sociability, friendship, Gemini, Taurus, Leo, April, deceit, and hazard signs.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;GREEN: Green symbolizes great intelligence, nature, spring, fertility, youth, environment, wealth, money (US), good luck, vigor, generosity, go, grass, aggression, coldness, jealousy, disgrace (China), illness, greed, Marijuana and drug culture,corruption (North Africa), life eternal, air, earth (classical element), sincerity, Cancer, renewal, natural abundance, growth, health, August, balance, harmony, stability, calming, creative intelligence, Islam, and the ordinary.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;BLUE:  Blue can symbolize seas, men, productive, interior, skies, peace, unity, harmony, tranquility, calmness, trust, coolness, confidence, conservatism, water, ice, loyalty, dependability, technology, winter, depression, coldness, idealism, air, wisdom, royalty, nobility, Earth (planet), Virgo, Pisces and Aquarius, strength, steadfastness, light, friendliness, peace,  truthfulness, and love.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;INDIGO: Indigo symbolizes spirituality and intuition.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;VIOLET: Violet symbolizes magic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;PURPLE: Purple can symbolize nobility, envy, sensuality, spirituality, creativity, wealth, royalty, nostalgia, ceremony, mystery, wisdom, enlightenment, arrogance, flamboyance, gaudiness, exaggeration, profanity, bisexuality, sexuality confusion, pride, Scorpio, May, November, riches, romanticism, delicacy, and penance.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;MAGENTA: Magenta symbolized artistic creativity or anti-racism.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;ROSE:  Rose symbolizes optimism or romantic love.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;PINK: Pink is a sister color of red, but they are very different in terms of symbolism. It is a tranquilizing color. For this reason in many prisons the cells of the most dangerous residents have been painted pink. It symbolizes spring, gratitude, appreciation, admiration, sympathy, socialism, femininity , health, love, romance, June, marriage, joy, flirtatiousness, innocence and child-like features&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;BROWN: Brown is the color of dirt, giving it an earthy, environmental quality which is popularly coupled with green. Shades of brown represent skin tones and produce a comforting feeling. Brown symbolizes calm, boldness, depth, natural organisms, nature, richness, rusticism, stability, tradition, anachronism, fascism, Nazism, boorishness, dirt, feces, dullness, filth, heaviness, poverty, roughness, earth (classical element), October, Capricorn, Scorpio, and down-to-earth. Brown can stimulate the appetite, wholesomeness, steadfastness, simplicity, friendliness, and dependability.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Well, this was a very educational post. A bitch felt like she was in school researching and reading all this shit. I don’t like it, lol. Well that’s all for now.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span   class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;  font-family:arial, sans-serif;font-size:10px;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8058269614977631126?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8058269614977631126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8058269614977631126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/tonight-is-one-of-loneliness-nights.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1686852297257155243</id><published>2009-09-26T02:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T02:31:03.041-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sayyyy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I HATE all men. All of em. Don’t be looking for no loop hole dickheads. Hey you! Look between your legs… you got a penis? Yeahhh, I’m talking about you then, bitch!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Matter of fact, I don’t even like none of y’all right now. Like the entire human race. Foreal though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;PAUSE. I’m so dead, London just hit me up and asked me to shout her out. SHOUTS TO YOU LONDON! I’m her biggest fan by the way. Blaoww, ho!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It’s been a lot of shit going on that’s been pissing me off man. I don’t even know where to start though. I’m just sick and tired of everyone, foreal shit though. I mean, shit. If you talked to me today, you probably didn’t even realize that I was mad. I’m trying not to act out as an angry bitch. But I’m gonna let this shit out right here and this blog post and in Irma’s Y! box.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Irma: Whatchu blogging&amp;#160; &lt;br /&gt;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160;&amp;#160; A*: how I hate human beings.           &lt;br /&gt;Irma: -highfive, as do I&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;The only person that can relate me right now is Irma. No matter what happens man, she’s always there and I’m always there for her. I’m a venting bitch sometimes, and she listens to me ramble. I appreciate it, too.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Err’body else dipped off anyway. So fuck that shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;I honestly feel like beating the shit out of somebody. Like, I wanna go outside right and randomly bust them in they shit man. I don’t even give a fuck if I lose, which I won’t, but still. I’ve got way too much pent up anger and frustration. I bet I’d go overboard if I got physical right now.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Like foreal. Why the fuck do people have to be so fucking retarded? Why do people always do stupid shit and then think it’s okay to discuss it like that shit cool? Bottom line, I don’t care about nobody’s lil life problems. I don’t wanna hear about you and your bitch, you and your nigga. Nigga, I got real life problems to deal with to be worried about some petty shit like someone else’s life. If I aint give birth to you, consider yourself irrelevant right now. Niggas aint paying me to listen to the bullshit they say anyway, shit. I should start charging these dickwads like Ms. Cleo and shit, $2.99 a minute mother fucker.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;I thought that after I finish posting all that shit above I’d feel better. I just feel so fucking tense. This Jackie Boyz song is kind of soothing to me though. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;But fuck this shit. I done cut people, but it’s time for final cuts. And left is two of my best niggas. Like I said, I aint naming no names. You know where you stand.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Love it or hate it, either way it’s fuck you til the day I die.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;em&gt;They be like, “Ay, who your best friend is guhlll?”        &lt;br /&gt;-“Shit you know, that nigga J. Will, dog.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="7"&gt;HOLLA AT A BAD BI&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="7"&gt;TCH WHEN YOU SEE ONE.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right" align="left"&gt;&lt;font size="4" face="Segoe Script"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1686852297257155243?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1686852297257155243'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1686852297257155243'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/sayyyy.html' title='Sayyyy!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7630556674079790476</id><published>2009-09-24T22:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T22:36:28.991-04:00</updated><title type='text'>one hundred</title><content type='html'>Earlier today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm having a pretty good day today. I'm feeling pretty happy and stress free, at least for now. I'm enjoying it while it lasts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't have shit to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life consist of three things: Tay, Family and Josh. Without those three, there's no point in breathing. I'd give my last breath for any of them, without any second thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I were discussing our relationship last night. We went over how its grown, how we started this all the way to now. Everything we did, all the steps we took to get to where we are now man, it was done with pure perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when we looked up the definition of love in the bible. I remember reading it and thinking to myself that was what I wanted and I wasn't going to settle for anything less. We must have both been thinking the same thing because we decided as one to base our relationship off of it. Man, I've got to say that was one of the best decisions we've made because our relationship as blossomed and matured into something amazing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am totally and without a doubt in love with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aww, I'm such a damn caker. Check that shit out. That's some shit that was on my mind earlier today and shit. I'm committed to this blog shit, real talk homes. LOL, I probably sounded like a real geek, but it doesn't even matter foreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anywho, it's too bad that I didn't stay stress free all day. I'm always blowing up about something. Dang. I hate that my temper is so short sometimes. I need to get that shit under wraps FOREAL. When I blow up I be wanting to break shit. Like, all kinds of shit. Name it, I'll trash your shit if I'm mad. I don't even want to discuss it anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Stretches- FUCK! My back is killing me. Man I done stressed myself out and made my back start hurting. I have a shitty ass body dog. Shitty ass health, the whole nine. BUT, I'm still here so. -Does the bird walk- I'm about to pop about 2 advil before I go to bed. I should be straight in the morning. You know what though, I would LOVE to go to the chiropractor. That shit always feels so damn good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was thinking that maybe I need a new career and all. I'm just not happy with my job anymore. Or am I? Bloody hell, I'm so fucking confused man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm about to listen to music though and play uh Freecell. Don't judge me either. Freecell is fun. You probably just don't know how to play.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:'segoe script', sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; line-height: 15px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: -webkit-xxx-large; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'segoe script';"&gt;&lt;span  class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7630556674079790476?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7630556674079790476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7630556674079790476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-hundred_24.html' title='one hundred'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-453274130788735065</id><published>2009-09-23T09:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T10:04:07.096-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I had an epiphany this morning. Sometimes I just think about everything in my life or just shit that happened last night. In this case, I'm reflecting on the two real conversations I had last night: one with Josh and the other with Narada.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I hear it all the time from Irma. &amp;quot;Ash you're too damn nice,&amp;quot; &amp;quot;You're nicer than me Ash&amp;quot; etc. And I realize that I am. I'm always trying to care about someone when I shouldn't. I'm always trying to make others people happy, when I shouldn't give a damn. I'm trying to make the next nigga feel happy, I'm trying to give the next nigga the benefit of the doubt when he or she fucks up when in actuality I shouldn't be. That nigga and that bitch don't give a damn about me, not foreal. A nigga may sit in your face, smile at you all day, say this and that all because he thinks he wants something. Key word, THINKS. That nigga don't want shit. Not foreal.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Man, Narada man is a cool nigga foreal. Usually when him and I converse its usually jokes and shit, but that nigga can really drop some real shit, real spit. Its crazy cause I never would've thought we would've had a real ass discussion about shit. He basically brought out this I don't give a fuck about nobody shit in me. It may not be the nicest thing, but its some shit I needed. Basically he was explaining to me why he don't care about the next bitch. The bitch don't do shit for him, literally. The bitch don't pay a bill nor does she take care of him. So shit, care about the bitch for what? NOT SHIT. Real fucking spit though. Like I said, it may not be nice or polite, but that's the reality of it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Niggas and bitches alike walk around acting I owe them something. Prancing around, banging up their keyboards acting like I'm supposed to be on their dick, like I'm supposed to be their friend, like I need to talk to them everyday. I don't. What for? I'm only here to please one man only, and that's real. I don't even fuck with the majority of you niggas, cause I don't even like y’all. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; All my real niggas know who they are and where they stand. I don't even have to say their names. So you phony niggas, don't look for your name is my shit. If you're looking for recognition in my shit, you already know you aint in on my shit. I don't know why you would give a fuck anyway. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; Next.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; Man, everytime I talk to Josh about and issue or something that raises my eye brow and I can always count on him to steer me the right way. Man, I don’t know, but that man has a gift foreal. I’m so thankful and grateful for that dude. But that’s another topic for another time. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; Last night, after sharing a few things with him last night about past situations that nigga went in and went hard. I love when he gets like that by the way. But yeah man, he basically was like fuck these niggas too. Niggas is some haters on some real shit and acting like they so mighty. Niggas are grimey and don’t give a fuck about shit. Not even me, not themselves. Niggas can’t even be themselves anymore. LOL, niggas is mascots. But I aint even gonna get into that shit. I’m starting to feel how Josh feels about discussing other niggas.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;em&gt;“Niggas be bitch niggas though man. Like me, I don’t even like talkin about another nigga for too long unless they done pissed me off. I’m really uncomfortable discussing niggas for too long.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-J. WIll&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Well put baby. When you allow yourself to see what’s real and not what you want to be there, shit is like all clear to you. I was always stuck on what other people did to me, I couldn’t even see the shit these mother fuckers were doing right in front of my face. To be honest, the shit makes me sick to my stomach.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; Man I’m not perfect nor am I pretending to be. It’s just shit about myself, my attitude and my life that I need to change and I see myself making these changes as soon as possible after I slept on shit from last night. I can not and I will not sit up here and pretend like I have never judged anyone, but man fuck it. I can’t judge nobody. Who the fuck am I to judge anyone anyway? I’m not God. But you know what I can do, I can read between the lines nigga. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; I’m always watching. I’m always listening. I’m always noticing how you move nigga. I’ve always been doing that. I was just not analyzing as I should. It’s crazy though, cause I’m always analyzing, always. But now, now I done sat back and analyzed some shit, replayed this shit over and over in my mind. Niggas is sorry as fuck. Niggas aint happy foreal. Niggas hide behind what they have, boast about how much they got, what they gonna do and how the next nigga hating on them, constantly preaching, “Get like me nigga.” Sounds like a nigga that aint really happy to me, dog. Hiding behind these things, saying all these things don’t make it better. It only hurts you more cause you masking behind something that’s not you. And that’s real, on some Dr. Phil shit, my nigga.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; I’m gonna say this though: real niggas don’t even have to stunt and even if a real nigga is stunting, believe me sweetie, he’s not trying to. Real niggas don’t talk shit, real niggas don’t give a fuck about no bitch or no nigga. A real nigga is all about moving forward and taking care of his. Real niggas don’t bring other niggas down. Remember that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;em&gt;'”I don’t hate on no nigga man. I’m kinda like, do whatever you wanna do nigga. Get ya money, fuck ya bitches. Just leave me and mine alone.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;em&gt;-J. WIll&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;font color="#8080ff"&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Bruh if that aint some of the realest shit, I don’t know what is. It’s too bad y’all will never even get to know Josh. Not only does he NOT want to get know you, but I aint letting y’all get close to my baby. Incase you didn’t realize, I got my quotes are all from Josh. He’s the realest nigga I know.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt; But shit, I think I’m done. Catch a bitch on the flip though. I’ll holla.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-453274130788735065?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/453274130788735065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/453274130788735065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/shit-real.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-3218698227193128116</id><published>2009-09-23T00:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T09:25:29.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>!@#$%^&amp;*</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Currently playing: Trey Songz|Anticipaion Mixtape    &lt;br /&gt;Yes, again! Did I mention that I love Trey Songz? I love you Trey &amp;lt;3&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tonight has been so eventful. I’ve hated most of it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Josh and I got into it over something stupid, of course. I don’t think we’ll ever get into a real fight about anything serious. I know for sure we could never get mad and disrespect one another. He knows I’ll cut his balls off and feed them to him. &amp;lt;3 &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Secondly, one of my closest friends is going through it. It’s not like me to put other people’s business out like that, but I’m not happy about her situation. I’ll fuck someone up. I DON’T LIKE WHEN PEOPLE FUCK WITH MY FRIENDS. I don’t care who you are, how big you are, how much you weigh, none of that shit. I’ll fight you and I’ll fight you like we on the same level.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Besides that, I know things will end up just fine. They always do when I’m involved. I love making my friends happy. That’s what I do and shit. =]&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But yeah. School was cancelled today. It’s been raining for like 2 weeks straight here and shit. Rained so much it flooded. I-285 and I-20 are STILL closed and shit. School will be reopening tomorrow for DeKalb County Schools. I&amp;#160; guess that means I’ll be at work tomorrow. Yey! NOT!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;LOL, so yeah. I’m blogging and on Y! talking to my baby. We’re so lame for being on yahoo and blogging at the same time. I guess when you really love someone you wanna spend as much time with them as possible. Man, that just made me smile on some real shit. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;ROFLLLLLLLLL, Josh went hard. –Blog ended-&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-3218698227193128116?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3218698227193128116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3218698227193128116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post_23.html' title='!@#$%^&amp;amp;*'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8152285853799438530</id><published>2009-09-22T11:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T20:23:52.992-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bubbie</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;LOL, okay this is kind of random to most of yall but I had to share this with yall. I don’t know if you watch Cartoon Network or not, but there is a show on there called “The Marvelous Misadventures of Flapjack” and airs Thurdays. Love the show by the way. So yeah, here’s a picture first.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px auto 5px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" border="0" src="http://www.scribbledwall.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/flapjack-desktop-02x8003.jpg" width="366" height="279" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;You see the blue whale in the picture? That’s Bubbie, the little blue dude is Captain K'nuckles and the kid is Flapjack of course. Anyway, so Taylor decided to call me Bubbie one day. –Insert straight face here-&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;DOES ANYONE SEE THAT HUGE BLUE WHALE? :cry2:&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So she runs around the house yelling Bubbie, calls me Bubbie in public the whole works. Josh of course thinks it’s hilarious. I tell Irma about it, she dies cause she calls Kris Bubbie. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Check this out though, these two niggas live inside Bubbie’s mouth.&amp;#160; WTF Tay, thank you. =[&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" border="0" src="http://www.turnermediainnovations.com/assets/images/flapjack_1.jpg" width="394" height="224" /&gt;&amp;#160; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;Look at this picture of Bubbie. –Cries-    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;font size="5"&gt;↓&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" border="0" src="http://static.tvguide.com/MediaBin/Galleries/Shows/M_R/Ma_Mh/MarvelousMisadventures_OfFlapjack/crops/Marvelous-Misadventures-Flapjack7.jpg" width="381" height="271" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8152285853799438530?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8152285853799438530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8152285853799438530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/bubbie.html' title='Bubbie'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1931691670512510922</id><published>2009-09-20T04:17:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T04:18:10.064-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mmmyeah! [/Trey Songz]</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;What it dew. –Rubs eyes- It’s like 4 am.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;–Looks over at my recent posts- Damn, my nigga. I’ve taken like a 3 month hiatus and shit like that. It doesn’t even matter though. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Josh and I were talking last night and decided we’d revisit this blog shit and do it again. I mean, we miss this shit a little since it was fun to read each other’s shit and whatnot. Plus, Window’s Live Writer is the shit though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;What to blog about?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Erm, we talked about some real shit last night though. LOL, we’ve been doin this shit for a long time though man. I can basically read Josh’s mind now. &amp;lt;3 That shit so crucial. He couldn’t believe that I could actually read his mind based on how he answered certain questions or reacted to certain comments and whatnot. Yeahhh nigga, I know your ass, as I should, shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But shitttttt. I’ve been killing these uh, two Trey Songz CDs and shit like that. That Anticipation mixtape and Ready album. I love that nigga shit though. I’m sure all my friends and everyone who knows me its about tired of Trey Songz already, but I don’t even currrr. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;“Twitter me a picture lemme see that okayyyyy.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;So yeah, I went and got a new tattoo and shit. =] Shit goes hard. I would post a picture of it, but it’s kind of in a lowkey private area. Maybe I could find a way to take it later. Anyway, I got this bad lil tiger and what not.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;“You tiger now too, baby.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Holla at a bad bitch when you see one! You already know how we does it and shit, my nigga. Now me and Josh match for life and shit. Sooooongzzzz! [/Trey Songz]&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Anywayyyyy though. Shouts out to the team. =/ Well Irma that is. Me and Irma done got extraaaaa cool these past couple of months. Shouts to Rob and shit like that. I aint got no groupies nigga. You know I don’t give a fuck about none of these niggas, dawg. The “team” still kinda separate right now and shit, but we all good and whatnot. Shit gonna get back, believe that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;But check it, that’s it for right now. I’m about to call J.Will so I can go back to sleep. A bitch feeling like a zombie right now. Damn this bright ass computer screen and shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;I’ll holla though.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1931691670512510922?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1931691670512510922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1931691670512510922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/mmmyeah-trey-songz.html' title='Mmmyeah! [/Trey Songz]'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1763497607032688394</id><published>2009-09-19T13:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-19T13:53:14.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>$$$</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" border="0" src="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn2/stacksmatic/pictures/caine.gif" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;I got money to blowwwww.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="text-align: right"&gt;&lt;span style="line-height: 15px; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;#39;segoe script&amp;#39;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large" class="Apple-style-span"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1763497607032688394?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1763497607032688394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1763497607032688394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title='$$$'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn2/stacksmatic/pictures/th_caine.gif' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-9213687809438876536</id><published>2009-08-06T23:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T23:44:20.032-04:00</updated><title type='text'>me chinese, me play trick</title><content type='html'>Konichiwa! Whoa, I haven't been on this bitch in a minute though.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You know the drill, everything is everything. I don't even have to type it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sayonara, Daddy loves you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial, fantasy;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial, fantasy;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:arial, -webkit-fantasy;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'segoe script'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'segoe script'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-9213687809438876536?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/9213687809438876536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/9213687809438876536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/08/me-chinese-me-play-trick.html' title='me chinese, me play trick'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6275670506616556033</id><published>2009-07-08T22:47:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T23:43:00.139-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Yenno, you can’t please everyone.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Besides that statement of the obvious, everything has been great. I moved into my new place and what not. I’ve been spending alot of time with my family, which has been great and even more time with Josh. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Speaking of which, we’re doing really really really good. Probably better than ever before. I’m trying to think of the word that describes the best feeling in the entire world, but I can’t think of one. But if I could think of one, that is how I feel right now. For some reason, I feel like I’m falling apart and he’s the only one that keeps me together.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately in me trying to get back to a good mental state, some people don’t seem to get me or understand what I’m exactly going through. So, I guess they’ve decided to let me go. –Rolls eyes. Which leads to the next update on friends.  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;So um, friends? Nah, I’m good off of those. It’s funny though, how people act one way a certain day and different the next day. That’s why I say you can’t please everyone. –Shrugs. I mean, I’m not good off EVERYONE, I love my homegirls, no doubt. To be honest, I don’t even want to start to expound.   &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;Next. My healthhhhh sucks, but oh well. There is no point in talking about it with anyone besides Josh. He seems to be the only one that calms me. I have tons of doctor appointments to attend. Blah fucking blah dude.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Taylor’s birthday party has been the highlight of my summer. It was theeee best water party|pool party ever. She got tons of presents and had a really great time. I really wish Josh and Irma could’ve been there to see everything. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;The fourth of July was pretty decent. It was hella chill, just a BBQ with the family. Us all eating together and sharing laughs and what not. Times like that make me forget everything wrong in my life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, that’s pretty much it. I’m just gonna lay down and wait for Josh to call me when he gets in the house.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 15px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'segoe script'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'segoe script'; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6275670506616556033?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6275670506616556033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6275670506616556033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-462150789796586096</id><published>2009-06-15T19:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T19:05:02.724-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Today was interesting. I haven’t been in the best of moods, but whatever. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I got everything for Tay’s party today. Yeeeet!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I spilt grape soda all over my shirt at Sam’s Club, which left me looking like a 7 year old. I was so badbitch.com today too, but after the soda incident I looked like hotghettomess.com.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Weird ass men have been hitting on me lately. Before the stain, some man walked past me in Sam’s and said, “Yummmm.” Ewh! Then even after I had a stain on my shirt some man was waving at me and shit. He was like 30+ years old. FML!&amp;#160; Both times my mom laughed her ass off.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Oh and yesterday, some nigga was breathing down the back of my neck tryna holla. It must be the colored hair or something.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It’s hot as shit in Atlanta man. Every time I walk outside I break a sweat. WTF. I fucking hate being hot. Maybe that’s why I’ve been a bitch. IDC though. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My mom was tryin tell me how to drive today. Since she can’t drive for another week or so, I have to drive Ms. Daisy around everywhere. Anyway, we exchanged words today in the car. Yelled at each other and all that good stuff. I love my mom, she makes me so sick.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tay got back today from her dad’s house. Made my day man. She’s the only person that loves me unconditionally. Shit is the best feeling. I think all of yall should go out and have babies, so you know what its like. Mkay? Okay.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Sharina called and asked me to pick her up from the airport cause Chris won’t be able to cause he has work. So, tonight I’m picking Sharina up from the airport. BALLIN! I’m gonna drive like a bat out of hell. =]&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-462150789796586096?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/462150789796586096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/462150789796586096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/today-was-interesting.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4925821435052046008</id><published>2009-06-14T19:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T19:13:40.958-04:00</updated><title type='text'>06|14|2009: Tu-Tu, Dee &amp; Qali</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEHfiZCtI/AAAAAAAAAiE/X9XKpeVSZIM/s1600-h/Photo1983.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Photo 198-" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="200" alt="Photo 198-" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEHb9oLSI/AAAAAAAAAiI/_8OWn-gIIac/Photo198_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEHkF7_zI/AAAAAAAAAiM/MVFxxM8DlFo/s1600-h/Photo1996.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Photo 199-" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="201" alt="Photo 199-" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEH0Q0_HI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/ViVcLdPbpzM/Photo199_thumb2.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEHyup5gI/AAAAAAAAAiU/AL9Krf572Yw/s1600-h/Photo2013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Photo 201-" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="200" alt="Photo 201-" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEIOvjmNI/AAAAAAAAAiY/mzvh2YanALI/Photo201_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEIWwLDRI/AAAAAAAAAic/1_OohroxD2g/s1600-h/Photo2053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Photo 205-" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="200" alt="Photo 205-" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEIaow3fI/AAAAAAAAAig/u97bxdUeQ8M/Photo205_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEIdG6-2I/AAAAAAAAAik/NQZIIXUt-KQ/s1600-h/Photo2083.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Photo 208-" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="200" alt="Photo 208-" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEIhirdlI/AAAAAAAAAio/xXdKLZ3gTu8/Photo208_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEI8metlI/AAAAAAAAAis/OCpoGpOcBp8/s1600-h/Photo2093.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Photo 209-" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="200" alt="Photo 209-" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEJOtve3I/AAAAAAAAAiw/zK7LU-Cr71U/Photo209_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4925821435052046008?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4925821435052046008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4925821435052046008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/06142009-tu-tu-dee-qali.html' title='06|14|2009: Tu-Tu, Dee &amp;amp; Qali'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SjWEHb9oLSI/AAAAAAAAAiI/_8OWn-gIIac/s72-c/Photo198_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2678689931065546941</id><published>2009-06-13T14:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T04:15:07.051-04:00</updated><title type='text'>just an update</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Two weeks til I’m in my new place. God I’m so excited. I’ll be having a small get together with the people I love. Too bad the people I really wish could come live far away: Josh, Rob and Irma.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;We’re not having Tay’s party at the pool anymore. I’m renting a HUGE blow up water slide and we’re gonna BBQ and have it at my grandmother’s place. I can’t wait. My baby is growing up so fast.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My mom’s surgery went well. She’s healing well. Yey! I’ve been taking care of her, and that woman can drive me crazy. It’s cool though, cause this was a good opportunity for us to bond.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;For the inquiring minds, Josh and I are more than great and we’re ready for August to get here already. I love that man so much.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;That’s pretty much everything.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2678689931065546941?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2678689931065546941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2678689931065546941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/just-update.html' title='just an update'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5447714051096091455</id><published>2009-06-08T04:23:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-08T04:36:36.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>weekend and shit like that</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Mannnn, how many of you love your BFF? –Raises hand- Dude, my BFF is better than yours! I just thought I’d share that with you guys. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, it’s like nearly 4 am and shit and I can’t sleep at allllllllll. Josh just went off to bed. I told him to go to sleep cause he has work in the morning at 8 am. I don’t want him tired at work.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So yeah, lemme fill you niggas in on my weekend and what not.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Saturday I went to Malachi's birthday party which was so fun. There were kids everywhere and they had the biggest water fight I ever saw. I’m talking water balloons, water guns, and buckets of water. The wholeeee nine son. I think that party is what I really need to cheer up. When I got there Malachi gave me the biggest hug ever. I love him man. Foreal. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Unfortunately, me and my bestestestest-er friend Mary got into a bit. –Sigh- Eh, it’s a long story. To make a long story short, she came to me and told me she was jealous. She apologized, we kissed and made up. That’s my bitch for life, no matter what. I mean, we got the matching tats and all.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;*Speaking of which, we’re throwing this partyyyyyy. FUCK YEAH! We’re not having it at my place, cause it won’t be up and running in time. So, we’re having it at her place. The theme of the party is JBP—Just Been Fucked! Ugh, I’m so in love with this. You basically have to come dressed like you’ve just been fucked. Like, guys: blouses all buttoned wrong, messy hair and lipstick on your clothes; girls: bras showing, messy hair, messy clothes. I already know what I’m wearing. They can forget about my tits being out. Them bad boys too big to be exposed, but Josh would not approve anyway. Would you boo? –Smiles-&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So yeah, I’ve been spending alot of time with my cousins Breanna &amp;amp; Deanna.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;OMG, Lemme tell you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So Friday man, we were all at my mom’s and what not and she had scheduled a Comcast tech to come fix the cable. It’s like 12 something, and I’m still in bed cause I was up late til like 5 am talking to Josh, and the phone rings. It’s the Comcast tech. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Hi, I just came by your house and no one answered the door.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m rubbing my eyes and shit, and I hear music. Deanna is up listening to Day 26 so I ask her if she heard someone ring the door bell.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Someone rang the doorbell?”    &lt;br /&gt;”Nah, I aint hear it over the music.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So I tell him that someone is here, obviously and ask him if he can come back. So he agrees. I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth and shit. As I’m brushing my teeth, the doorbell rings and it’s him. I run to my room to put on some sweats cause all I have on is an oversized t-shirt that reads “Zone 4 Inc.” on it. So I answer the door, still looking like I just rolled out the bed. Prada is already at the door barking like crazy. So annoying by the way.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;”You gotta lil killa, huh?     &lt;br /&gt;”He’s hardly that.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So I pick up my “lil killa” and I notice this nigga peeping out my shirt and shit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“What you know about Zone 4?”    &lt;br /&gt;”Huh? Oh, my friend used to be Polow’s assistant.”     &lt;br /&gt;”Who Krista?”     &lt;br /&gt;”Nah.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was so weird, cause this nigga really talking to me like know me and shit. So yeah, I show him to my moms room and tell him what’s wrong with the TV and shit like that.&amp;#160; He’s looking at the TV, and I’m holding Prada sittin on my mom’s bed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Yall have a basement?”    &lt;br /&gt;”Yeah.”     &lt;br /&gt;”Is it accessable?”     &lt;br /&gt;”Mhm.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So mind you, my mom doesn’t have like a finished basement and shit, so it’s all basementish from like scary movies and shit. I turn the lights on and this nigga look at me and asks me can I put some shoes on and come down to the basement with him because he’s scared. BIG LOL. I look at him like he’s crazy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“You must be kidding, right?”    &lt;br /&gt;”Nah man, I’m foreal. I’m scared to go down there.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Me not thinking, I slip on my UGG boots and go downstairs with this man. He finds what he needs to find and we go back upstairs. I’m dusting off my shoes, cause it’s kinda dirty down there.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;”Those UGG boots, huh?”     &lt;br /&gt;-Smiles- “Sure are.”     &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;I think that he thinks I’m crazy for dusting my shoes off. Anyway, so he tells me that he’s going to replace the wire|cord&amp;#160; and that he’s going to be outside for about 15-20 minutes. I tell him okay and I go back in the room with my cousins. These hos talking about they hungry and they wanna go to Wendy’s. I tell em we can go when this nigga finish up. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So about 15-20 minutes pass and he’s ringing the doorbell again. So I open it and we go and check the and see if he fixed the problem. EUREKA!    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;“What was the problem?”     &lt;br /&gt;“You had water in the cords man, that was the problem.”     &lt;br /&gt;”Water?”     &lt;br /&gt;”Yeah, like…rain.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This nigga is insulting my intelligence. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I roll my eyes and he’s telling me about his dog and shit like that. He has a 7 month old Mini Doberman Pincer. I love dogs by the way. He’s talking about how he needs to give his dog away cause he doesn’t have time for her anymore. So I wanna see her, cause she sounds cute. So he goes back out to the Comcast van and brings back his phone and shows me a video of his dog. Now I see why he wants to give her away. That mother fucker is hyper as hell. I tell him I’ll pass and as I’m walking him out, he hands me his this CD.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“I do music, and I want you to listen to this and tell me what you think.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’m thinking, Niggggggga, I don’t work for Polow I’m not gonna give him this shit. But instead I say okay. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Oh, and here is my number right here. So you know, you can call and tell me what you think.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-Straight face-&amp;#160; I just smile and shut the door.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;My cousins thought that was the funniest shit ever. They done called my mom and told her that the Comcast man gave me his number low key and she’s just laughing and shit. I didn’t think it was very funny at all.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, so we get ready and we go to Wendy’s. We go inside and order cause we have too many separate orders and shit.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;*Josh, lmao, it’s the same Wendy’s that, that dread head nigga was all in my face in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Of course this nigga would be workingggggg and he notices me and has the biggest goddamn smile on showing all 2704834 of his gold teeth. While I’m waiting for my food to come at the counter, he comes up to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;“Aye shawty, how many piercings you got?”    &lt;br /&gt;”Uhh, 14.”     &lt;br /&gt;”Goddamn baby, that’s alot of piercings.”     &lt;br /&gt;”I like piercings.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-Cries- Did he just call me baby like he was Plies. Lord, kill me nowwww. I’m dying inside cause I can’t even call Josh to cake with him and say I love you fifty-leven times like I did last time so this man will leave me alone.&amp;#160; Even though Josh was right last time, that nigga don’t even care that I have a man. Note to self, never go back inside that Wendy’s again.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SizKg3WKLKI/AAAAAAAAAgo/Qvvv__mzKpQ/s1600-h/Nuvo29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nuvo2" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="283" alt="Nuvo2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SizKhNDLtCI/AAAAAAAAAgs/jUNJXXCInRk/Nuvo2_thumb7.jpg?imgmax=800" width="220" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Back to Saturday. So me and my cousin Deanna drank 2 bottles of Nuvo. That shit is something yummy homes. Anyway, I think I may have had too much to drink cause I was on yahoo talking about all kinds of shit with Josh. He thought I was quite entertaining though. Apparently I pour my heart out when I’m drunk. Anyway, after I left there I went to IHOP and fucked some crepes up. Them cream cheese filled bitches are so fucking good though. Anyway, that fucking bottle is so sexy. I had to take a picture of it. I’m mad it’s like the same size of my torso though Foreal.. –Blushes hard- I love being short. The only bad part about it, it that it was expensive. Fucking $33.16 [that’s with tax included] a bottle and shit like that. I could’ve got 2 bottles of Smirnoff for that price. Either way, it was a good night.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So yeah, I’m feeling better about shit. I got chewed out by BFF though today for not telling him about the other day when I hit rock bottom. I told him I didn’t wanna worry him with my issues when everyone has their own shit to worry about, but he said he doesn’t care. Thanks BFF, you’re the best. &amp;lt;3&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Josh and I are good. We finally got back to our normal selves and we’re better than ever. I swear whatever happens between us, whatever things we ever go through, it always makes us stronger than before. That’s my baby though, foreal. I’m just glad that we’re both feeling better.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But yeah, I guess I’m done blogging and shit. It’s 4:21 in the morning. I guess I’ll put Twilight on and lay down til I fall asleep or whatever. Good night my loves.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5447714051096091455?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5447714051096091455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5447714051096091455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/weekend-and-shit-like-that.html' title='weekend and shit like that'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SizKhNDLtCI/AAAAAAAAAgs/jUNJXXCInRk/s72-c/Nuvo2_thumb7.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6887961030670843790</id><published>2009-06-06T22:08:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-06T22:08:53.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I’d like to thank a few people for yesterday:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Thank you BB for always supporting me. You totally made me smile yesterday when I read your comments on my blog. I know we don’t talk much, but I really appreciate you. I just want you to know that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Thank you Sharina for your tmail messages last night.&amp;#160; I love you still, even though you’re a slut and shit like that lol. Just kidding.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Lastly, thank you Josh for being there for me through EVERYTHING. I love you more than anything in the entire world…besides Taylor lol, but you knew that. But seriously, we’re both at rock bottom right now. This is something that has never happened, but I know we’ll make it baby. Just like you said, everything always works itself out. And this thing or what have you that we’re going though won’t break up apart baby, because I’m gonna be strong for you baby. I love you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make up come back up on top again.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6887961030670843790?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6887961030670843790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6887961030670843790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/id-like-to-thank-few-people-for.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8135384889668048444</id><published>2009-06-05T15:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T19:58:01.515-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I just wanna be successful</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Tell me something, why does life have to be so hard though? Truth be told, I’m tired of stressing. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My mom has her surgery coming up on Tuesday. My major cardiologist appointment is coming up on the 17th. From the looks of things I’ll get going to that shit by myself. I’m thinking about not going. Tay’s birthday party is on the 25th.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I need to make a gynecologist appointment. I don’t know when I’ll have time to go to that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Tay’s dad hasn’t called. I guess his daughter finally don’t exist to him anymore.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Financially I’m beat. I’m trying to make this shit spread as far as I can just in case my doctor tells me I’m going to have my surgery. That is if I go to my appointment. I hate my medical insurance. $245 out my check every month for bullshit ass coverage.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’ve got ton of packing and cleaning to do for moving.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;My mother keeps yelling at me everyday about every little thing. That aint nothing new, but I can’t take much more verbal abuse. My cousin Shermel keeps telling me I aint shit, keeps telling me I could be rich. Imagine that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Crying don’t fix shit, I keep trying to keep my head up. I know I can make it though all of this, I just don’t know how yet.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I can’t talk to anyone about my problems because EVERYONE has problems. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I gotta think of how to get this money man. I gotta get this shit!&amp;#160; Everything and everyone is requiring money. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And since I have no one to tell me, I’ll tell myself: “Everything is going to be alright Ashlee.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Too much of this shit will kill you. Well, we all gotta go some day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8135384889668048444?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8135384889668048444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8135384889668048444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-just-wanna-be-successful.html' title='I just wanna be successful'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7077787105192868872</id><published>2009-06-03T22:24:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T22:24:06.729-04:00</updated><title type='text'>=]</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:67779dc0-c58b-47fd-b651-29f7ddba6492" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;div id="99c97874-e2b6-44d1-b89b-d7790d7c4388" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVq1ZPDsGZA&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SicwRSEd1PI/AAAAAAAAAgk/_yed-OBCCws/video46fa5e0ab7a3%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('99c97874-e2b6-44d1-b89b-d7790d7c4388'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = &amp;quot;&amp;lt;div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;object width=\&amp;quot;396\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;331\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=\&amp;quot;movie\&amp;quot; value=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/uVq1ZPDsGZA&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/uVq1ZPDsGZA&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot; type=\&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash\&amp;quot; width=\&amp;quot;396\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;331\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/object&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/div&amp;gt;&amp;quot;;" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;I so wanna meet Soulja Boy now, we can go dumb together tho. Nawmsayin? Yuh.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7077787105192868872?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7077787105192868872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7077787105192868872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/blog-post.html' title='=]'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SicwRSEd1PI/AAAAAAAAAgk/_yed-OBCCws/s72-c/video46fa5e0ab7a3%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7191373019067081116</id><published>2009-06-01T14:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T13:04:10.925-04:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:18e84907-e12e-45bc-97e6-10bfc4bfae89" style="padding-right: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; float: none; padding-bottom: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-top: 0px"&gt;&lt;div id="72911a5d-f517-4ffa-9e53-d912352bd47e" style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; display: inline;"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgQ3C2ouDWw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" target="_new"&gt;&lt;img src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiVbia04qSI/AAAAAAAAAgg/7co1b1fUwbM/video0efbe1aa61b7%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-style: none" galleryimg="no" onload="var downlevelDiv = document.getElementById('72911a5d-f517-4ffa-9e53-d912352bd47e'); downlevelDiv.innerHTML = &amp;quot;&amp;lt;div&amp;gt;&amp;lt;object width=\&amp;quot;408\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;340\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;param name=\&amp;quot;movie\&amp;quot; value=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/sgQ3C2ouDWw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/param&amp;gt;&amp;lt;embed src=\&amp;quot;http://www.youtube.com/v/sgQ3C2ouDWw&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;hl=en\&amp;quot; type=\&amp;quot;application/x-shockwave-flash\&amp;quot; width=\&amp;quot;408\&amp;quot; height=\&amp;quot;340\&amp;quot;&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/embed&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/object&amp;gt;&amp;lt;\/div&amp;gt;&amp;quot;;" alt=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p&gt;OMG, so the new Twilight movie is coming out on MY 22nd birthday. I so totally know what I’m doing on November 20th. I’ll be at the movie theater with all the other white girls so ready for this movie. God, other than Josh and Tay this was totally the high light of my fucking day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7191373019067081116?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7191373019067081116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7191373019067081116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/06/omg.html' title='OMG!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiVbia04qSI/AAAAAAAAAgg/7co1b1fUwbM/s72-c/video0efbe1aa61b7%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4057917077769673743</id><published>2009-05-30T23:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T20:02:19.102-04:00</updated><title type='text'>survey and shit like that</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;A&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Available: Only after 9.     &lt;br /&gt;- Age: 21.     &lt;br /&gt;- Annoyance: Rhetorical questions.     &lt;br /&gt;- Animal: Horse.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;B&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Beer: Ehhh, if I really gotta go that route, Corona Extra w| lime or Bud Light.     &lt;br /&gt;- Birthday: Nov. 20th.     &lt;br /&gt;- Best Friends: Josh, Rob &amp;amp; Irma    &lt;br /&gt;- Body Part on opposite sex: PENIS &amp;lt;3     &lt;br /&gt;- Best feeling in the world: Orgasms.     &lt;br /&gt;- Blind or Deaf: =/ Neither.     &lt;br /&gt;- Best weather: 70 degrees, cloudy with a breeze.     &lt;br /&gt;- Been in Love: I am now.     &lt;br /&gt;- Been on stage?: Yes.     &lt;br /&gt;- Believe in Magic: No.     &lt;br /&gt;- Believe in God: Yes.     &lt;br /&gt;- Believe in Santa: LOL, of course…not.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;C&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Candy: Jolly Ranchers.     &lt;br /&gt;- Color: Black, Orange &amp;amp; Green.     &lt;br /&gt;- Chocolate/Vanilla: Chocolate.     &lt;br /&gt;- Chinese/Mexican: Both ^_^    &lt;br /&gt;- Cake or pie: Cupcakes!     &lt;br /&gt;- Continent to visit: Europe of course. Oh, and Asia.     &lt;br /&gt;- Cheese: Is high in calories, but who cares?     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;D&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Day or Night: Night.     &lt;br /&gt;- Dance in the rain?: If my hair is curly.     &lt;br /&gt;- Do the splits?: –Cries-     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;E&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Eggs: –Gags-     &lt;br /&gt;- Eyes: Brownish green.     &lt;br /&gt;- Everyone’s got: Problems.     &lt;br /&gt;- Ever failed a class?: Yes.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;F&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- First thoughts waking up: “Same shit, different day.”     &lt;br /&gt;- Food: Asian|Thai.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;G&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Greatest Fear:&amp;#160; Dying and leaving Taylor alone =/     &lt;br /&gt;- Goals: To become something one day, hopefully.     &lt;br /&gt;- Gum: Wrigley's spearmint gum.     &lt;br /&gt;- Get along with your parents?: We have our days.     &lt;br /&gt;- Good luck charm: I don’t believe in luck. Make your own magic.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;H&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Hair Color: Black     &lt;br /&gt;- Happy: Is what I am when I’m with him.     &lt;br /&gt;- Holiday: Independence Day.     &lt;br /&gt;- How do you want to die: I don’t.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Ice Cream: Cold Stone|Brusters     &lt;br /&gt;- Instrument: Piano     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;J&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Jewelry: Tiffany&amp;amp;Co.     &lt;br /&gt;- Job: County Employee.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;K&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Kids: I love them!     &lt;br /&gt;- Kickboxing or karate: Kickboxing FTW.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;-Keep a journal?: Kinda sorta, I guess.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;L&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Longest Car Ride: 12 Hours.     &lt;br /&gt;- Love: Best feeling in the world, if its done right.     &lt;br /&gt;- Letter: Q     &lt;br /&gt;- Laughed so hard you cried: Yes, that’s when it’s the best.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;M&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Milk flavour: 2%     &lt;br /&gt;- Movies: I LOVE MOVIES.     &lt;br /&gt;- Motion sickness: Sometimes, if I’m reading in the car.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;N&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Number of Siblings:&amp;#160; 3 biological brothers.     &lt;br /&gt;- Number of Piercings: 14!     &lt;br /&gt;- Number: 21 or 23     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;O&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- One wish: World peace. =/     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;P&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Perfect Pizza: Beef, mushrooms, black olives and pineapples. &amp;lt;3     &lt;br /&gt;- Pepsi/Coke: Cherry Coke Zero     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Q&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Quail: Hanh?     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;R&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Reason to cry: Next.     &lt;br /&gt;- Reality T.V.: Court TV|Real TV FTW.     &lt;br /&gt;- Radio Station: Pandora FTW.     &lt;br /&gt;- Roll your tongue in a circle?: Ask Josh ;)     &lt;br /&gt;- Ring size: IDK. I have fat hands. -Cries-    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;S&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Sushi: Mmmm, Yessss.     &lt;br /&gt;- Skipped school: Yes, tons of times.     &lt;br /&gt;- Slept outside: Mhm, camping FTW.     &lt;br /&gt;- Smoke?: Not anymore.     &lt;br /&gt;- Skinny dipped?: Yes.     &lt;br /&gt;- Shower daily?: Yes.     &lt;br /&gt;- Sing well?: Yes, its the passion.     &lt;br /&gt;- Sing in the Shower?: You know it, shaw!     &lt;br /&gt;- Swear?: Too much.     &lt;br /&gt;- Strawberries/Blueberries: BOTH! yomyomyom!     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;T&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Time for bed: Whenever I fall asleep on the phone.     &lt;br /&gt;- Thunderstorms: HATEEEE them.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;U&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Unpredictable: Apparently thats all me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;V&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Vacation spot: South of the border, shawt.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;W&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Weakness: IDK.     &lt;br /&gt;- Wanted to be a model?: No.     &lt;br /&gt;- Where do we go when we die?: =/ I want to be immortal.     &lt;br /&gt;- Worst Weather?: Tornados.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;X&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- X-Rays: Taken tons of em.     &lt;br /&gt;- Ex’s: Are pooof, gone!     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Y&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Year it is now: 2009.     &lt;br /&gt;- Yellow: Polka dot bikini.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Z&lt;/b&gt;     &lt;br /&gt;- Zoo animal: Hip, Hip-Hop, Hip-Hop Anonymous [Hippopotamus] &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4057917077769673743?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4057917077769673743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4057917077769673743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/survey-and-shit-like-that.html' title='survey and shit like that'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5143825800008647622</id><published>2009-05-30T12:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-30T12:45:09.743-04:00</updated><title type='text'>why would you wanna break up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;I’m in love with the most incredible man on Earth and out of all the women in the world, he chose me. Life doesn’t get any better than this.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5143825800008647622?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5143825800008647622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5143825800008647622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/why-would-you-wanna-break-up.html' title='why would you wanna break up'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1267136097672609736</id><published>2009-05-29T16:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T17:02:44.454-04:00</updated><title type='text'>mixtape of the day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;I said it before &amp;amp; I’ll say it again: Mario is fucking great.    &lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" align="center" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;       &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="400"&gt;           &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiBK6YVDijI/AAAAAAAAAfk/Hbyh7ZjMN7Q/s1600-h/whatthegamesbeenmissingfront%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="whatthegamesbeenmissingfront" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="286" alt="whatthegamesbeenmissingfront" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiBK6oAE7VI/AAAAAAAAAfo/ve4E7QDnVSg/whatthegamesbeenmissingfront_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="286" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;        &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="400"&gt;           &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiBK637lFAI/AAAAAAAAAfs/ZQ4T2QjfNpc/s1600-h/whatthegamesbeenmissingback%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="whatthegamesbeenmissingback" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="286" alt="whatthegamesbeenmissingback" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiBK7Ye--7I/AAAAAAAAAfw/4uyQt7l6wNI/whatthegamesbeenmissingback_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="286" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;     &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt; Feel free to download &lt;a href="http://illroots.com/2009/04/30/mario-what-the-games-been-missing/" target="_blank"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; kids.&lt;/div&gt;  &lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: segoe script"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1267136097672609736?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1267136097672609736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1267136097672609736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/mixtape-of-day.html' title='mixtape of the day'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiBK6oAE7VI/AAAAAAAAAfo/ve4E7QDnVSg/s72-c/whatthegamesbeenmissingfront_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6120685946363053310</id><published>2009-05-29T13:31:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T19:00:06.361-04:00</updated><title type='text'>new fab video</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;Fabolous feat. Jermemih “It's My Time” &amp;amp; Fabolous feat. Ryan Leslie "Your Baby"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="wlWriterEditableSmartContent" id="scid:5737277B-5D6D-4f48-ABFC-DD9C333F4C5D:4d993b65-278e-4951-a4c7-a83c691d6216" style="PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; DISPLAY: block; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; FLOAT: none; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; MARGIN-LEFT: auto; WIDTH: 364px; MARGIN-RIGHT: auto; PADDING-TOP: 0px"&gt;&lt;object height="303" width="364"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://videos.onsmash.com/e/N4BAzTXWiQjaWbks"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowNetworking" value="all"&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://videos.onsmash.com/e/N4BAzTXWiQjaWbks" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allownetworking="all" allowscriptaccess="always" width="364" height="303"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Anyway, listen at 2:22, that Ryan Leslie beat is sick!&lt;br /&gt;I swear, that man is FUCKING AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;Ahh and Fab is the sexiest Dominican, ever. That’s all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:segoe script;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:segoe script;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6120685946363053310?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6120685946363053310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6120685946363053310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/fabolous-feat.html' title='new fab video'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7608954112211953683</id><published>2009-05-29T12:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T16:44:02.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>more music madness</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiAuARsrTmI/AAAAAAAAAfY/wU0UYz5K1mk/s1600-h/meth_topbanner%5B1%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="meth_topbanner" style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; DISPLAY: inline; MARGIN: 0px 0px 5px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px" height="336" alt="meth_topbanner" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiAORBgOPjI/AAAAAAAAAfc/4d5QtHCKUmM/meth_topbanner_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="297" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Method Man &amp;amp; Redman—SNAP SHOT!  Man, so everyone knows who these two niggas and if you don’t you’ve been seriously living under a rock or some shit. But yeah, you’ve seenheard these niggas from their album &lt;em&gt;Blackout!&lt;/em&gt; from the movie &lt;em&gt;How High, &lt;/em&gt;down to both their appearances on the MTV show “Cribs.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What I’m really trying to get to is their new album &lt;em&gt;Blackout! 2, &lt;/em&gt;which was released May 19th of this year. And might I add, it is one of the best albums that have come out this year. It’s my personal opinion, yeah I know. BUTTT unfortunately for you, my opinion does matter. Moving on. So yeah, I’m actually listening to it now, and they totally make a bitch happy. So, I advise everyone to take their broke asses out and cop that shit. NOT DOWNLOAD, but actually buy it. You know when you really like an album you actually buy the real thing? Well this is one of these moments kids. However, if you insist that I’m a fucking ass and I don’t know what I’m talking about music wise, which makes you an idiot by the way, you can preview the album before you purchase it. Feel free to click the link provided here : &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/methodman" target="_blank"&gt;CLICK ME&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="415" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="180"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiAtXAEXFRI/AAAAAAAAAfI/TIhkZQgVOIE/s1600-h/blackout-2%5B9%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="blackout-2" style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; DISPLAY: inline; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px" height="317" alt="blackout-2" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiARmPqZUzI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/R7sVKP6lytU/blackout-2_thumb%5B9%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="281" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;11.   How Bout Dat&lt;br /&gt;12.   Dis Iz 4 All My Smokers&lt;br /&gt;13.   Lock Down [Skit]&lt;br /&gt;14.   Four Minutes to Lock Down&lt;br /&gt;15.   Never Herd Dis B 4&lt;br /&gt;16.   I Know Sumptn&lt;br /&gt;17.   A  Lil Bit &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="233"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;1.   BO2 [Intro]&lt;br /&gt;2.   I’m Dope Nigga&lt;br /&gt;3.   A-YO&lt;br /&gt;4.   Dangerous MCees&lt;br /&gt;5.   Errbody Scream&lt;br /&gt;6.   Hey Zulu&lt;br /&gt;7.   City Lights&lt;br /&gt;8.   Father’s Day&lt;br /&gt;9.    Mrs. International[Skit]&lt;br /&gt;10.    Mrs. International &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next topic. For those who haven’t noticed, Josh and I have the coolest blogs ever WITHOUT using photoshop or any of that high tech shit. We’re basically in competition as to who can make the coolest looking blogs or post…whatever you call each entry. FUCK YOU if you think we’re lame or nerds. –Shrugs- Honestly, we don’t care. But um, my vote is that my blog is way totally better than his. So, I’m winning. And yes I nominated myself. I’m sure he’s peeped my shit out and his jaws dropped. POW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Josh, we’re beefing now anyway. I just had to add the part about the blogs cause I like winning. =/ I’m not elaborating really. I’m pretty much done talking about my personal life here on these blogs. BUT I will update you, the readers, on a few things on whatever I feel like sharing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That’s it for right now, hope you enjoyed the show. I’m gone.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:segoe script;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Killaaaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:segoe script;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;™&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7608954112211953683?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7608954112211953683'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7608954112211953683'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/fuck-yall-feelings.html' title='more music madness'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SiAORBgOPjI/AAAAAAAAAfc/4d5QtHCKUmM/s72-c/meth_topbanner_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1653840085697198076</id><published>2009-05-27T19:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T17:05:21.956-04:00</updated><title type='text'>j. holiday and some more shit</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Man, there have been three main songs for the day. And I love all three of these songs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;J. Holiday “Make The Sound” &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Teairra Mari ft. Pleasure P “Hunt For You” &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;R. Kelly ft. Plies “Playaz in Da Club” &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;You know what, the entire J. Holiday album Round Two is great as well as his first album Back of My Lac’. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SvpTk1HI/AAAAAAAAAd4/ElNzQ2c9KA0/s1600-h/JHoliday%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="JHoliday" style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; DISPLAY: inline; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px" height="244" alt="JHoliday" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SvmqD2tI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ZxC3h7HKfvg/JHoliday_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Back of My Lac’ &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ghetto &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thug Commandmets &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Betcha Never Had &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laa Laa &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Come Here &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be With Me &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Suffocate &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fatal &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Without You &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Pimp In Me &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Thank You &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fallin’ &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3Sv9gpoDI/AAAAAAAAAeA/jrBVuL6m9Us/s1600-h/JHoliday2%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="JHoliday2" style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; DISPLAY: inline; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px" height="244" alt="JHoliday2" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SwLTL9wI/AAAAAAAAAeE/hDIulU7iDsQ/JHoliday2_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Intro &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It’s Yours &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fall &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Don’t Go &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wrong Lover &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Run Into Your Arms &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sing 2 U &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Lights Go Out &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make that Sound &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Forever Ain’t Enough &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Fly &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Homeless &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I tried &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Magic Man (Bonus Track) &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt;Right now, this very second as I font I’m listening to both of these albums.  J. Holiday’s voice is amazing, and the music is something you can just sit back too. Although I prefer Back of My Lac’ over Round Two, I think they’re both great. I mean, the entire BOML album can ride all the way out. My five favorite tracks from Round Two: “It’s Yours” “ Sing 2 U” “Make that Sound” “Forever Ain’t Enough” and “Fly.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, this R. Kelly and Plies song. I’ve never really been a big Plies fan, but IDK this song is kind of hot. More so, probably because of Kells. I mean, I love the lyrics. =/ &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The same thing goes for Teairra Mari and her song with Pleasure P. I’ve never been a fan of either one of them, and I’m still really not a fan of their music, but this song is cute. Like I said, it’s all for the lyrics. I’m a sucker for a nice love song and whatnot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;*Anyway, in other news Taylor and I had a good day today. We went to the pool and spend some quality MotherDaughter time together. I swear, she means to me more than any person in the world. &amp;lt;3 But then again, that’s how it’s supposed to be when you have children. Tomorrow we’re going to go to Stone Mountain Park and we’re gonna go up the mountain. Here are my pics from when I went up with Eden.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SwSvk1UI/AAAAAAAAAeI/ZKb0vZTBxKg/s1600-h/stonemountain%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="stonemountain" style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; DISPLAY: inline; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px" height="150" alt="stonemountain" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SwvOxLwI/AAAAAAAAAeM/P-yABHnMTAM/stonemountain_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="195" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3Sw9LDs2I/AAAAAAAAAeQ/wyMiLJ15sRA/s1600-h/stonemountain2%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="stonemountain2" style="BORDER-TOP-WIDTH: 0px; DISPLAY: inline; BORDER-LEFT-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM-WIDTH: 0px; BORDER-RIGHT-WIDTH: 0px" height="147" alt="stonemountain2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SxBwaSWI/AAAAAAAAAeU/XURjNxK1XNE/stonemountain2_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="193" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The one on the left is from when I was going up and the right is one of me sitting on the top of the mountain. Man, once you get to the top it’s the most beautiful view; you can see all of Atlanta. I told Josh that he’s going to do the mountain with me and he said okay. –Blushes hard- I totally forgot that he’s doesn’t like heights, but I know he’ll think it’s beautiful once he’s up at the top.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I’ll finish this later.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1653840085697198076?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1653840085697198076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1653840085697198076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/man-there-have-been-three-main-songs.html' title='j. holiday and some more shit'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sh3SvmqD2tI/AAAAAAAAAd8/ZxC3h7HKfvg/s72-c/JHoliday_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1160865977205369699</id><published>2009-05-27T03:04:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T17:27:37.543-04:00</updated><title type='text'>mario</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Man oh man, I have no idea why I’m still awake. Instead of watching TV or some movie, I’m up listening to music doing some occasional texting here and there on my phone and some here and there conversation on Y! with one person.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But man, I’m in the best of moods right now. I was going through my CD case book thingy and shit, and I ran across Mario’s very first album, his self titled album &lt;em&gt;Mario&lt;/em&gt; that came out in 2002. The whole album brings back some of those good memories from back in the day.&lt;/p&gt; I haven’t listened to his second album ever, however. But man oh man, that &lt;em&gt;Go&lt;/em&gt; album is the shit. I’m listening to that one now.   &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;  &lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;     &lt;tr&gt;       &lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl6nha_KI/AAAAAAAAAdY/wrS0VtQLuEM/s1600-h/Mario4%5B7%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Mario4" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="188" alt="Mario4" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl6506MuI/AAAAAAAAAdc/KcHL6dOJBls/Mario4_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="192" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;        &lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl6zyv24I/AAAAAAAAAdg/JeyKh9Sc9nM/s1600-h/Mario3%5B10%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Mario3" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="186" alt="Mario3" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl7F1ZhYI/AAAAAAAAAdk/blR9U5brNBk/Mario3_thumb%5B8%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="187" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;     &lt;/tr&gt;   &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY ALL TIME FAVORITE MARIO SONGS:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;       &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="198"&gt;&lt;u&gt;From The Mario Album&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="202"&gt;&lt;u&gt;From The Go Album&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;        &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="198"&gt;2 Train            &lt;br /&gt;What Your Name Is             &lt;br /&gt;Holla Back             &lt;br /&gt;Chick Wit Da Braids             &lt;br /&gt;Never&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="202"&gt;Go Mario            &lt;br /&gt;Crying Out for Me             &lt;br /&gt;Skippin’             &lt;br /&gt;Music for Love             &lt;br /&gt;Kryptonite             &lt;br /&gt;Why             &lt;br /&gt;Right and a Wrong Way&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;        &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="198"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="202"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;     &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;    &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;  &lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;     &lt;tr&gt;       &lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl7eJY6QI/AAAAAAAAAf4/zao9kCNJAEQ/s1600-h/Mario%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Mario" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="290" alt="Mario" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl7tlEIZI/AAAAAAAAAf8/HmlmyYbb1PQ/Mario_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;        &lt;td valign="top" width="200"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl78NtikI/AAAAAAAAAgA/cqxYNxxqz28/s1600-h/Mario2%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Mario2" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="289" alt="Mario2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl75MIxjI/AAAAAAAAAgI/cOVGGyfHsUs/Mario2_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;     &lt;/tr&gt;   &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;Mhm. Look at Mario all grown up now, yomyomyom.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1160865977205369699?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1160865977205369699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1160865977205369699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/mario.html' title='mario'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shzl6506MuI/AAAAAAAAAdc/KcHL6dOJBls/s72-c/Mario4_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5190322772992126578</id><published>2009-05-26T22:59:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T22:59:28.359-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Have you ever heard a song that you just had to put on repeat for like an hour+? Son, those are the best songs ever. It hasn’t happened to me in FOREVER, but today I was playing around on the PC and listening to random music. I ran across this artist or whatever, who Josh has given credit to in one of his previous posts and whatnot, and I have to say it was pretty dope. BUT as I was listening to both his mix tapes, Fall from Grace and Alive &amp;amp; Vibrate, I ran across this one track. It’s totally random, and probably doesn’t make any sense, but I’m in love with it. Anywayyyyy, if you’re interested in what I’ve been listening to for forty-five straight minutes, you may skip through the songs on my playlist and play the song “This Way” by Nero. Honestly, I’m not sure if it’s him or if he…IDK, it has his name on and I like it. The end.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Also, if you’re listening to my wonderful music player there are three other songs by two amazing bands:&amp;#160; Avenged Sevenfold and Killswitch Engage.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;*Listen to them right now. Please and Thank you, sirs and ma’ams.    &lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;Anywho, I had an awesome weekend. I mean, it all started with Friday, which was the last day of school as well as my last day for work with the county for about 10 weeks. Hallelujah! Nah, but I’m loving the break so far. Saturday and Sunday was cool. I basically spend my entire weekend with Tay and Josh. “Just like the old days.” It was nice though, foreal. Monday was cool too. The family had a Memorial Day BBQ and whatnot, and of course I showed up hours late. –Curtseys- Unfortunately it rained, but hey, it was still a BBQ and as always it was nice to see the fam.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’ve been talking to Irma a lot these past couple of days. I’m supposed to be going to visit her, but we sort of made plans to meet up in Chicago since we’re both trying to go in July. I promised my friend Jackie I’d visit her and since I have a free ticket to fly anywhere in the U.S. and I told her I’d use my ticket to see her. So, I’ll be seeing Jackie and Irma in July. POW!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Man, I just realized that I’d be totally lost without my phone. I mean, before it was whatever. Like I could’ve totally lost my phone and been okay, but recently I’ve been texting A LOT, and I’d seriously miss texting my pals. I basically text Josh, Irma and Rob twenty-four seven.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I’ve been thinking about making a new Y! account for messenger. I’m pretty much annoyed by most of the people on there. I tend to do that a lot though. Like, I’ve signed on to my pervious names, and I’d get a lot IM boxes like, “OMG, you’re online!” or “Where you been?” etc. you know. I just sometimes up and disappear on people. –Shrugs- I like to start fresh sometimes, yenno.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I honestly think I’m just going there this stage where I want a new everything. Everything except a new boyfriend and new Trio.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Well, Josh is bugging me to post this blog so he can read it. He’s going to be so disappointed when he reads it. LOL, a bunch of nothingness is all it really is.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;XOXO.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5190322772992126578?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5190322772992126578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5190322772992126578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/have-you-ever-heard-song-that-you-just.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1012932583148623658</id><published>2009-05-26T13:41:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T16:37:54.943-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShwpwxVE8MI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/I3lODIcEXDs/s1600-h/plies%5B3%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img title="plies" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-bottom: 0px" height="196" alt="plies" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShwpxB16HhI/AAAAAAAAAdU/S1YRpzqJWgI/plies_thumb%5B1%5D.png?imgmax=800" width="321" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Peep the hand gesture. Mmm, if you aint down to make the kitty purr aint no bitch gonna be checkin for you foreal. –Shrugs- I just thought I’d share that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;Good day. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1012932583148623658?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1012932583148623658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1012932583148623658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/plies-is-down-so-you-should-be-too.html' title='Meow!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShwpxB16HhI/AAAAAAAAAdU/S1YRpzqJWgI/s72-c/plies_thumb%5B1%5D.png?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5395246841681415882</id><published>2009-05-24T22:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T13:38:46.171-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nas and more shit</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Man, basically I think I sort of feel in love with Washington, D.C. foreal. Seriously. That city is freaking beautiful though, and there are soooooooooo many museums there and memorials, all of which I love. Today I was looking at these pictures I took when I went in 8th grade. =/ Eh, I know that shit was a long time ago, but I remember it though. It was pretty dope, and the mall strip thingy was theeeee shit. So yeah, I need to go back again and do all that shit all over again. I'm thinking, a 1 week trip. Yes Lord. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, I'm kicking back listening to Nas, my favorite MC. If you haven't already, take a look at &lt;a href="http://ayjosh.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;Josh's blog&lt;/a&gt; and shit. Nas as well as some other AMAZING MCs are having this concert in D.C. which will be, hands down be probably one of the most amazing concerts ever. Anyone who lives in VA or that other state D.C. is close to [ I don’t remember the name of it because it’s probably lame or some shit] should definitely fucking go. I mean, I don’t care if you go broke from buying tickets to go, you better go. –Takes a peep at Josh’s blog- Ah, yes. The concert is called Rock the Bells. You should fucking go. Orrrrrr if you can’t make it, you should at least buy me a ticket to go andddd a plane ticket to D.C. and shit. Don’t worry, I can take care of my food and hotel expenses.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, everyone of you who are reading this blog should go out and download and|or listen to every single one of Nas’ albums.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;   &lt;table cellspacing="0" cellpadding="2" width="400" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;       &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHFikE6MI/AAAAAAAAAbE/VQCbWqnYY6c/s1600-h/Nas%5B11%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="125" alt="Nas" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHFu6Cp4I/AAAAAAAAAbI/TVRzBOjQGQc/Nas_thumb%5B7%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="125" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHF4hg2QI/AAAAAAAAAbM/nSjvYdSvudI/s1600-h/Nas2%5B10%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas2" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="123" alt="Nas2" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHGA3dASI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/uQACsfUGEHE/Nas2_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="123" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHGUQRFSI/AAAAAAAAAbU/BKyENBvG6is/s1600-h/Nas3%5B7%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas3" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="121" alt="Nas3" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHGp5uKiI/AAAAAAAAAbY/3KNwzCzkHP8/Nas3_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="121" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;        &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHGgeS22I/AAAAAAAAAbc/e8AJeFrWm08/s1600-h/Nas4%5B8%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas4" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="120" alt="Nas4" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHG9bTx1I/AAAAAAAAAbg/DMZeWpCrYR8/Nas4_thumb%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHG6jHSKI/AAAAAAAAAbk/s1s9AWwCP28/s1600-h/Nas5%5B6%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas5" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="118" alt="Nas5" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHHGJzyFI/AAAAAAAAAbo/1ETg-WlRV5o/Nas5_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="118" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHHdZBnLI/AAAAAAAAAbs/qWZgLoV81us/s1600-h/Nas6%5B4%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas6" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="116" alt="Nas6" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHHTRUvAI/AAAAAAAAAbw/xNGALv71w5w/Nas6_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="116" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;        &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHHoQHMpI/AAAAAAAAAb0/nvObiDoTHHM/s1600-h/Nas7%5B11%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas7" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="118" alt="Nas7" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHHuENWQI/AAAAAAAAAb4/8UMOBwW-33g/Nas7_thumb%5B9%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="118" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;           &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHI3h4k3I/AAAAAAAAAcU/G_8AA_1oTlk/s1600-h/Nas9%5B26%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas9" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="114" alt="Nas9" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHJJnP6qI/AAAAAAAAAcY/r3gWWzb88Ig/Nas9_thumb%5B22%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHIEF390I/AAAAAAAAAcE/EXRmmWAlHLc/s1600-h/Nas11%5B5%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas11" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="120" alt="Nas11" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHIb5e5uI/AAAAAAAAAcI/PWUn-uAugKQ/Nas11_thumb%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;        &lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHIkmG_ZI/AAAAAAAAAcM/lhgXeshx4ss/s1600-h/Nas10%5B11%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas10" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="120" alt="Nas10" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHInkzKbI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/zRwqYc0BvxU/Nas10_thumb%5B9%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shwo2GACe9I/AAAAAAAAAdI/g1GCycVWT5s/s1600-h/Nas8%5B15%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Nas8" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="120" alt="Nas8" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Shwo2aSiRkI/AAAAAAAAAdM/4eQGm1GkMvE/Nas8_thumb%5B12%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="120" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/td&gt;          &lt;td valign="top" width="133"&gt;           &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;font size="1"&gt;&amp;#160;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;     &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, BRB Josh and I are shopping for “goodies” =]&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5395246841681415882?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5395246841681415882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5395246841681415882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/nas-and-more-shit.html' title='Nas and more shit'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShoHFu6Cp4I/AAAAAAAAAbI/TVRzBOjQGQc/s72-c/Nas_thumb%5B7%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4093520118426057067</id><published>2009-05-18T09:14:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T09:51:30.016-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Just two minutes ago, I mailed a secret to Post Secret. Now I'll wait to see if it will ever be posted here online, and if it is, I pray that no one knows which secret is mine.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Anyway, look at my baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShFnoWqniWI/AAAAAAAAAa0/eCtPKQRMEag/s1600-h/Mom%27s+Camera+036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShFnoWqniWI/AAAAAAAAAa0/eCtPKQRMEag/s320/Mom%27s+Camera+036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337160976387508578" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShFi-CDthdI/AAAAAAAAAZs/m-KyXNI2x2Q/s1600-h/Mom%27s+Camera+212.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShFi-CDthdI/AAAAAAAAAZs/m-KyXNI2x2Q/s320/Mom%27s+Camera+212.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337155851254597074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Man, I live for these moments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4093520118426057067?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4093520118426057067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4093520118426057067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/monday-secrets.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ShFnoWqniWI/AAAAAAAAAa0/eCtPKQRMEag/s72-c/Mom%27s+Camera+036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2588050654326331208</id><published>2009-05-16T13:04:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T13:10:25.556-04:00</updated><title type='text'>kiss my ass</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;So, I heard that I’m lying about being sick or what not.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sg7yCBW3irI/AAAAAAAAAZk/jBVn-nTzbz4/s1600-h/Mom%27s%20Camera%20298%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img title="Mom's Camera 298" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="184" alt="Mom's Camera 298" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sg7yCWuR0cI/AAAAAAAAAZo/YTBCHrVmrtQ/Mom%27s%20Camera%20298_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="center"&gt;Take a look at that assholes [click to enlarge photo].&lt;br /&gt;Whoever said I was lying, I hope you rot in hell.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;lt;3&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2588050654326331208?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2588050654326331208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2588050654326331208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/kiss-my-ass.html' title='kiss my ass'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh5.ggpht.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sg7yCWuR0cI/AAAAAAAAAZo/YTBCHrVmrtQ/s72-c/Mom%27s%20Camera%20298_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7173463336169008678</id><published>2009-05-16T11:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-16T11:07:47.518-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Diary,</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I woke up this morning happier than I’ve been in a long time. Its totally unlike me to wake up happy or be happy on my own without relying on someone else to make me happy or give me that happiness boost.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Anyway, I woke up around 6 ish this morning and decided to go for a morning jog for about 30 or 45 minutes. The air was thick and full of water, which made me sweat but overall it was a nice jog. Of course, being that I live in Downtown Decatur, I saw a lot of other people jogging with their dogs and others in small groups.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Last night Taylor and I met my mom at Los Bravos, it’s a Mexican restaurant. It was really nice, the Mariachi band was there and Taylor really enjoyed herself.&amp;#160; My mom and I ordered Margaritas, which were amazing. She had a strawberry Margarita and I got a Lime Margarita. I think hers was better than mine fruit wise, but mine had a better Tequila “zing” to it. There is really nothing like Tequila, lime and salt. &amp;lt;3&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Back to what I was saying, I must be having some sort of breakthrough in my life. I mean, I’m totally carefree about anything negative. All I want is to be happy, and I’m happy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I had actually had a really nice conversation with Irma yesterday afternoon about life in general. She told me some things that I took&amp;#160; to heart, that make complete and total sense. There is no point in being angry, there is no point in harvesting anger or negative thoughts or feelings. If something bad happens, all you can do is fix the situation at hand and move forward from it. If things don’t go my way, or according to what I want, that’s okay.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Speaking of which, my very dear friends have really come through for me when I’ve needed them these past three days or so. Even friends that I don’t even talk to that often. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I talked to Jay the other morning. He sounded so happy, like so happy. Hearing him so happy actually made me feel really good. Him and his baby are doing well, and he tells me that he’s completely stress free. I thought to myself, “It must be nice.” and told him that I was happy for him.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Rob of course is always there for me. He does that smallest things that make me really appreciate him as a friend, like just a simple text to ask me if I need anything; simply just checking on me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Then I thought, I’m surrounded by a lot of meaningful people that actually care about me, which must mean that I’m a good person, right? It must mean something if someone cares to check on me or ask me how I’m doing randomly out of the blue.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Besides my friends and all that good stuff, Josh told the best thing I could’ve heard all week. Like, have you ever had someone tell you something that made you completely speechless? That’s pretty much what happened to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Well, that’s it for now. I’m going to watch Spiderman 3 with Taylor. I hope everyone has a wonderful Saturday morning and rest of the day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7173463336169008678?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7173463336169008678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7173463336169008678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/dear-diary.html' title='Dear Diary,'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7192286164380140466</id><published>2009-05-11T09:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T09:10:56.695-04:00</updated><title type='text'>throwbackkkk</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sggi7XeewBI/AAAAAAAAAY0/q7jBzIYFfFE/s1600-h/babytayandi.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sggi7XeewBI/AAAAAAAAAY0/q7jBzIYFfFE/s320/babytayandi.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334552161929838610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;man we've come a long ways now. it seems just yesterday she was my little baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7192286164380140466?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7192286164380140466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7192286164380140466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/tay-i.html' title='throwbackkkk'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Sggi7XeewBI/AAAAAAAAAY0/q7jBzIYFfFE/s72-c/babytayandi.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7914320750395559953</id><published>2009-05-10T18:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T18:54:23.178-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Y!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;southern.hustle: i'm TRYING to arrange a trip down there&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cloud.kapri: you should!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;southern.hustle: i wanna&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;southern.hustle: take you to mcdonalds&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;southern.hustle: let you buy anything you want off the dollar menu just that one time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;southern.hustle: next time you only can get what i tell ya you can have&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cloud.kapri: :"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cloud.kapri: I like a man in charge&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;southern.hustle: lol, you shoulda blogged that&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;LMAO, that my nigga man.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7914320750395559953?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7914320750395559953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7914320750395559953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/y.html' title='Y!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8957440704156888021</id><published>2009-05-10T11:42:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T13:08:46.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Happy Mother's Day and shit like that. shout outs to Dante being the first to tell me; I woke up to a text. -smiles-&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;to all the females reading my blog, it is a MUST that you go out and read Skinny Bitch. that book was absolutely amazing. I want to be a skinny bitch, so it is my new bible. don't get it twisted, I said skinny bitch NOT scrawny bitch. so yeah, go read it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh, I am now a converted vegan. meaning, no meat or dairy products. I don't eat anything with sugar, unless it's natural sugars. I don't eat anything or use fake sugars suck as Equal, Sweet and Low, Splenda. just so you know, those shitty sugars are ass for you and cancerous. they're not even good for people like me who are diabetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been talking to Dante a lot lately. I miss my nigga man. talking to him made me realize how much I miss hanging and talking to a real nigga. we always talk about real nigga shit. nigga told me when I'm ready to smoke strong holla at him. haha, I miss gettin high with my nigga. but yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;besides Dante, me and Rob been talking a lot too though. he's been keeping me strong and being the bestest BFF and shit like that. he's one of the main reasons I keep my head up. anyway, I found out that we have the same nickname last night. BOOBIE! he has a "B" tatted under his eye and a tear drop on the other side. I'm gettin it to! lemme show you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://pictures.crushspot.com/file.php?id=6182766"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 328px; height: 437px;" src="http://pictures.crushspot.com/file.php?id=6182766" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;it's not the best picture of the tats but, I'll have him send me another one. that shit still go hard as hell though. when I get that shit, I'm gonna be so thugged out, nawmsayin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;so I woke up yesterday at 7 am to cut the lawn, but the grass was too wet and the lawn mower choked out. shit was crazy. so I had to wait and while I was waiting, I went and got some gas for the lawn mower, cause we aint have none. then I had to go to Ace Hardware to get replacement fuses for the air condtioning and get some filers to replace the filters. after gettin all of that, I go to mow the lawn and what not. I get the back yard done, which killed me if I may mention. when I go to mow the front yard the lawn mower cut off. WTF! it's hard enough to fucking pull that string thingy to start it. so I find out after checking the mower again that it needs oil. so, I leave out AGAIN and get some oil and a PowerADE cause the fucking sun beating down on me. while mowing the front yard, I feel something snap on my back like a rubber band. =/ it's my fucking muscle in my back. but yeah, I finish mowing the law, replace the fuses, and change the air filters. oh yeah man, I had to drag like a 12 or 13 foot branch from one end of the yard to the other side. a bitch feel strong and shit like that. I think I'm pretty much the truth now. I aint doin that shit again though. and that's real. ask me how my body feels. like pure shit, like I was trying out for the Med-RX strong man competition and shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;but yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;man, the way some of these niggas be moving be hella trife. I aint gonna elaborate, but I'm just watching niggas real close and shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;man, I need to go out though and release one time. only thing is, I usually end up driving. :thumbsdown:, I wanna get fucked up. I can't even drink like I wanna drink being the driver. I dare not even drink at all. when I drink alcohol I lose all control of how many drinks I have. I've been doing good though. bitch been sober for a long time, but I feel, IDK. I just wanna drink and hit the dance floor one time. but you know what, I wanna go to a reggae club or a techno club to be foreal. I think if I go to a techno club I'll loose complete and total control. -smiles-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;"we were speaking but not communicating." that's how things were with Josh and I for the past week and whatnot. we actually started communicating and talked about a lot of stuff that needed to be said. so we good now. he tried to make me look at Rihanna's naked pictures. I mean, to be honest I wasn't that interested. Reese had already shown me one of em, and they all soft pornish. BLAH. he has previously tricked me into seeing Cassie's boney ass. to be honest, all the hype about these nudes is fucking whack. I've seen strippers that look 10x better and shit. show me Nicki Manaj's nudes and make me dick stand up and jump. I don't wanna see no boney hos. feel me? show me a long haired, THICK red bone. -licks lips-  and Josh, for the record, the pic of them Panamanian hos was totally photoshopped. you so lame. how three bitches gonna have the SAME EXACT body? I don't know if you know, but photoshop is amazing.  you can practically do anything on that bitch. like, put a grill in your mouth and make body parts smaller and|or bigger. too bad it wasn't real though, cause I'd wanna see their nudes and pull out the lotion for my dick. jizz all on the computer screen. -smiles-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;that's all for now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8957440704156888021?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8957440704156888021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8957440704156888021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/happy-mothers-day-and-shit-like-that.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4114260585268917179</id><published>2009-05-08T11:42:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T12:32:35.627-04:00</updated><title type='text'>if you bout money fuck with me</title><content type='html'>I made dinner last night. BBQ chicken, corn on the cob, blah blah. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tay&lt;/span&gt; was all happy though. "I like when you cook Mommy, it's good." I swear she's my heart.  I don't need no one else. She ate all her food too man. what can I say, I gets &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;downnnn&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;but yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a endocrine appointment today at 10:30. I was late of course. me and my doctor went over my blood work from last week. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; even gonna lie though &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;shawty&lt;/span&gt;, I'm kinda worried.  I told my doctor about my eyes. I gotta make an optical appointment next week to get my retinas|&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dilated&lt;/span&gt; eye exam checked and what not. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; elaborating, cause yeah. the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my, uh, cardiologist appointment is next week. I hate going to the doctor. I hope he tells me something good though. I've been having chest pain and shit like that. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;trippin&lt;/span&gt;, it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; nothing sleep can't fix.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been thinking about taking my piercings out though. I already took my earrings out my cartilage and shit.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I need a hair cut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;oh yeah, I woke up late as shit for work again. a bitch woke up at 6:35 and what not, and I'm supposed to be clocking in at 6:45. fuck work man, I got like 14 days left and what not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;that's it, I'm gone. -middle fingers up-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4114260585268917179?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4114260585268917179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4114260585268917179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/if-you-bout-money-fuck-with-me.html' title='if you bout money fuck with me'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5739109834864896530</id><published>2009-05-07T09:01:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T09:12:22.049-04:00</updated><title type='text'>its not that I'm an asshole I just live behind the tint, I don't see you</title><content type='html'>man, its still raining and shit, mother fuck you &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241701552_0"&gt;mother nature&lt;/span&gt;. anyway, I woke up late as shit, 6:20 to  be exact. yay...no. worst sleep of my life and whatnot. shout outs to Baby  waking up late; exactly an hour after me. &lt;3 &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, it was raining and  shit when I was getting out the car and shit. so I'm running inside the  building. of course I  slipped fell and shit in the biggest water pool puddle.  now  I'm sitting here in some sweats from the school itchy as shit. and if you're  laughing fuck you fuck you fuck you FUCK YOU. I shouldn't have been acting as though I was going to melt. -cries-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;last  night on CS was the truth. HA, no pun intended. insecurity must be a mother tho.  I aint trippin. I guess someone tried to tell me off or whatnot. uh, don't try  go hard on me and ask me if I'm mad. I don't ever get mad. fuck that shit, I  don't curr. nawsayin? yuh.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;days since I've talked to my Dad:  5  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;anyway, shout outs to Rob for being the bestest BFF and the funniest  nigga alive. whenever I'm down or in a bad mood that nigga always makes me  laugh.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;shouts to Irma, my main. we in this for life, she knows all my  secrets and all that good stuff. LOL, she's the most ghetto thuggish Bosnian I  ever met.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*trio for life &lt;3&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;man mother fuck, my wisdom teeth  are killing me. I feel like a baby with a teething ring the way I be nawing and  drooling on shit. and if you're laughing, -middle finger- son, I need to make  this dental appointment aso they can yank these hos out, foreal.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;my Mom  wants me to cut her lawn Saturday. I suppose I can do that. I'm wakin up early  tho to do that shit. shit is gonna take mad long and I don't wanna do it when  its hot out so I can die. oh yeah, &lt;span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1241701552_1" style="CURSOR: hand; BORDER-BOTTOM: #0066cc 1px dashed"&gt;Mother's Day&lt;/span&gt; is  this weekend. blah. I hope we have dinner at Lauren's house and Ms. Margret  makes them yams. yomyomyom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, I better have a good rest of the day  or I'll shoot this fucking building up cause I'ma mutha'fuckin thug! always  strapped fool, super soaker on deck. water guns are the shit. ahhh, I can't wait  til summer. endless BBQs and water fights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL, lemme tell you bruh. I  rode all the way home with my left middle up the whole way. so if people was  lookin, they got a fuck you. you shouldn't have been lookin. -shrugs-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm  out tho.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5739109834864896530?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5739109834864896530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5739109834864896530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/its-not-that-im-asshole-i-just-live.html' title='its not that I&apos;m an asshole I just live behind the tint, I don&apos;t see you'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7597013195211094544</id><published>2009-05-07T00:34:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T09:14:40.533-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I deleted this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7597013195211094544?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7597013195211094544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7597013195211094544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-pissed.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-973241433171553470</id><published>2009-05-05T23:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T23:47:27.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10px; white-space: pre; "&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/UWhMwY4zgh0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/UWhMwY4zgh0&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-973241433171553470?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/973241433171553470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/973241433171553470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-3917002918605093209</id><published>2009-05-05T17:19:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T18:37:06.360-04:00</updated><title type='text'>a few pics from Braylon's party</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCuNa8M_gI/AAAAAAAAAWM/FDSr3wLQE8s/s1600-h/tayjersey.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"&gt;&lt;img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCuNa8M_gI/AAAAAAAAAWM/FDSr3wLQE8s/s320/tayjersey.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332453504400031234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;that's Tay in the O'Neal jersey.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCtgZYLunI/AAAAAAAAAWE/dMo3uMc-_Tg/s1600-h/cake.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCtgZYLunI/AAAAAAAAAWE/dMo3uMc-_Tg/s320/cake.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332452730886404722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;cake, yom yom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCtgFhhKXI/AAAAAAAAAV8/NYGwNE2wJdE/s1600-h/deeandtay.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCtgFhhKXI/AAAAAAAAAV8/NYGwNE2wJdE/s320/deeandtay.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332452725556849010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Deanna &amp;amp; Taylor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCtgGA3pGI/AAAAAAAAAV0/VisttXWxVmw/s1600-h/ballinnnn.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCtgGA3pGI/AAAAAAAAAV0/VisttXWxVmw/s320/ballinnnn.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332452725688345698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;look at the birthday boy &lt;3&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-3917002918605093209?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3917002918605093209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3917002918605093209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/few-pics-from-braylons-party.html' title='a few pics from Braylon&apos;s party'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SgCuNa8M_gI/AAAAAAAAAWM/FDSr3wLQE8s/s72-c/tayjersey.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7317287778978444705</id><published>2009-05-04T22:15:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-04T22:22:15.685-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm so happy today for some unknown reason. I just feel totally on top of the world. It must be my new music playlist. all of those songs remind me of the happiest moments of my life. nothing gets any better than this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The Goo Goo Dolls "Iris"&lt;br /&gt;2. Santana "Smooth"&lt;br /&gt;3. Sheryl Crow "Favorite Mistake"&lt;br /&gt;4. No Doubt "Don't Speak"&lt;br /&gt;5. Matchbox Twenty "3 AM"&lt;br /&gt;6. Third Eye Blind "Semi-Charmed Life"&lt;br /&gt;7. Third Eye Blind "Jumper"&lt;br /&gt;8. Third Eye Blind "Tell Me How It's Gonna Be"&lt;br /&gt;9. Natalie Imbruglia "Torn"&lt;br /&gt;10. Lenny Kravits "Fly Away"&lt;br /&gt;11. Marcy Playground "Sex and Candy"&lt;br /&gt;12. Bust "Glycerine"&lt;br /&gt;13. Eagle-Eye Cherry "Save Tonight"&lt;br /&gt;14. Creed "Higher"&lt;br /&gt;15. Semisonic "Closing Time"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7317287778978444705?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7317287778978444705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7317287778978444705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/im-so-happy-today-for-some-unknown.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2911629009334393098</id><published>2009-05-03T10:08:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T10:38:41.688-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>yesterday was my little cousin's birthday, he just turned one. it was the cutest thing ever, I swear. my cousin wanted everyone to wear a sports jersey, and everyone had one. Braylon had on an entire Jordan outfit and got his first hair cut. he was as cute as button. I didn't wear anything that I had planned to wear, instead I went out and got two new jerseys for me and Taylor. I bought a Hawk's jersey and I got her a Pacer's jersey. we all had BBQ, which I have been craving for the longest. omg, you have no idea. I think I was the only nigga excited about the food, lol. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breanna told me next weekend she wants to go out with me again, since her and Deanna will be officially in Atlanta for summer break from school. I told her that's cool. I really miss my cousins and shit even though we tend to get together and fight. lol, I still love them the very same. I really missed Lauren though, cause she hardly came home at all. but she's here now, and man she's the funniest person, I swear. me and Natalie will be out the very same day for summer break, being as we both are on the same school calendar. she's so quiet, but will laugh at just about anything I say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;besides that, Saturday night turned to shit. actually my entire weekend, minus the party, was shitty. seeing everything and people's true colors can really, i don't know. there is no one that I can talk to about anything anymore. It sucks majorly, but it isn't something that I can't get over. everything always works itself out with or without anyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there has only been one person that I've relied on in my entire life. he's the only person that I've ever asked anything from, he's the very man that I thought loved me more than any other man, ever. my Dad. he hurt my feelings more than anyone could've ever hurt my feelings. more than my Mom was able to hurt my feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now, nothing else matters anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2911629009334393098?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2911629009334393098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2911629009334393098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/05/yesterday-was-my-little-cousins.html' title=''/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6182930742443590885</id><published>2009-04-30T18:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T18:09:37.638-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Y! with Tre</title><content type='html'>southern.hustle: i'ma thug&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: yeen no thug&lt;br /&gt;southern.hustle: i'll pull yo titty out in public&lt;br /&gt;southern.hustle: to show you how thug i'm is&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: go away&lt;br /&gt;southern.hustle: my nigga walk around tellin everybody that&lt;br /&gt;southern.hustle: "i'ma motha fuckin thug!"&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: ROFL&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: I yelled that one time in a parking lot&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: I'm so dead right now&lt;br /&gt;southern.hustle: then he'll look at the cameras in school&lt;br /&gt;southern.hustle: and be like "whoever watchin this, i'ma fuckin thug"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEATHHHHHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;see Josh, I'm not the only one who yells that kinda shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6182930742443590885?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6182930742443590885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6182930742443590885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/y-with-tre.html' title='Y! with Tre'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4047140278389887999</id><published>2009-04-30T13:53:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T17:09:24.261-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I miss Mimi</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Dear Mimi,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where are you?&lt;br /&gt;yahoo just isn't yahoo without our morning conversations. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;come back to me! -cries-&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br&gt;xoxo, Ashlee &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4047140278389887999?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4047140278389887999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4047140278389887999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-miss-mimi.html' title='I miss Mimi'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4023931257231058770</id><published>2009-04-29T18:24:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T18:27:53.817-04:00</updated><title type='text'>the 29th</title><content type='html'>today was cool. Missy and I met up for lunch and shared some laughs. we made friends with one of the fellow waiters. dude was extra gay and super funny. he had us rolling. after eating our salads and drinking our water with lemon [peep the diet food], I went with Missy to look at these town homes. omg, they were amazing. after seeing the 1800 square foot model, she decided that's where she wants to be. I love to see my homies doin well for themselves and making these moves. that's whats up, foreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*side note: I know this guy selling Six Flags Season Passes for $20 a pop and this one chick that has $500 Wal Mart gift cards for $250. I'm hopping on both deals, nawmsayin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, so its basically summer-time weather here in Atlanta so you know niggas is acting a fool. I swear, the heat makes people act insane; butt naked bitches and niggas that can't seem to keep their hands off you. pure ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, after lunch this Yardie pulls up to at the red traffic light. I dunno why everyone does it, but like when you stop at a red light its like you have to look over and see who's next to you. so yeah, that's what basically happened. lemme tell you, he rolls his window down and nods. so I smile and say, "hey, how you doin?" trying to polite yenno. he's all like, "you got a beautiful smile...somethin somethin, where you goin?" I tell him I'm on my way back to work and by the time Missy rolls up next to him all, "NUH UH! SHE GOTTA MAN!" funniest shit ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, one of my students decided to get pissy with me today. he doesn't like me right now for whatever reason, honestly I don't care. anyway one of the students that just returned to school from jail gave me a compliment. this pissy nigga says, "its not cute, she looks like shit." I let out one of Josh's karate man laughs him and said, "no one asked you for your opinion. sit down and shut up." he said, "shut up talking to me bitch...mother fucker." when I tell you I let out he biggest LOL in his face, boy I aint lying. he was pissed and was mumbling under his breath. I told him, "I know you're really mad, huh? and even madder that I don't give a shit about what you said or that your mad. so that makes you mad, mad, mad." I let out another huge laugh, and walked away. I think Dino hates me foreal foreal now. -smiles-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went to GodFather Customs today and applied for a part time there for the summer. the manager told me he'd more than likely hire me. BIM! it seems like a cool place to work, although I don't know what I'd be doing there LOL. we'll see though. I just wanna look cool in there and drive a company car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;holla at a bad bitch when you see one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4023931257231058770?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4023931257231058770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4023931257231058770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/29th.html' title='the 29th'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6543319036555971192</id><published>2009-04-29T08:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T09:06:39.772-04:00</updated><title type='text'>gravity</title><content type='html'>this post is about loyalties, I guess. I know a lot of us are always trying to prove our loyalty to one another, especially friends. we'll go as far as putting our life on the line, putting ourselves in life or death situations, or just willing and ready to take a bullet for them. and for what? to say we're loyal to them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not this nigga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;let me start by saying I don't have not one friend that I'm willingly to take a bullet for, let alone put my life on the line for. why? because to be honest, none of my friends would honestly take a bullet for me. I'm not willingly to play hero or take responsibility or anyones mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gun play is definitely a no for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some of you may think I aint no real nigga for not having my friends' backs or what not, but I'm real enough about mine to let them know I aint getting bullet wounds for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the way I see it is, I have my own life and my own responsibilities to be worried about whatever beef anyone has with someone, period. if my friend wants to run out and do some hot shit, guess what? its not my responsibility to get them out of it. we're all grown, and should handle our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to come off fucked up, but it is what it is. like I said, I can't play hero, but if we were in a drive by situation, I'd make sure we both duck or some shit. I'm sayin, I aint gonna sit there and watch my friend die. that's bullshit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shit, I know you "supposed" to "ride for your niggas" and "die for your niggas." if that's the case, my niggas are those my family. the end. I'd ride, die, get shot, and kill a nigga for anyone in my family. and of course I'd squeeze the burner off for Josh. that's about it though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying. in all honesty though, which one of yall would put your life on the line for me? -waits- please, don't all answer at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's what I thought.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6543319036555971192?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6543319036555971192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6543319036555971192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/gravity.html' title='gravity'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6675045049004793588</id><published>2009-04-28T17:36:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T18:03:06.804-04:00</updated><title type='text'>sabado, domingo y lunes</title><content type='html'>so I'm laid out across the bed watching NCIS. a lot is actually on my mind. I didn't realize how much I have to do in such little time, its freaking crazy. its nothing I can't handle though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday. boy oh boy yesterday seemed like one of the longest days of my life, I swear. I had to handle some business and come out the pocket about $300 for some bullshit. not to mention wait nearly 3 and a half hours to get the shit taken care of. I guess I shouldn't really complain because it could've been a lot worse. it was still some bullshit though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, I'm really blogging because Josh wants me to. -smiles- I'd do just about anything he'd ask me to do. call it what you want, but he's totally worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;count down til Josh's visit : 3 months and 10 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's August 7th by the way. since I'm sure a lot of people wanna know, there you go. I'm totally pumped. its like, real life shit now. like foreal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FUCK, I don't even know where to start with this blog. lemme see, I guess I'll start with the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, my weekend was pretty nice. I chilled on Saturday really, just kicked it with Tay and Baby all day. Josh and I had a wonderful day. oh yeah, my little cousin went to prom and shit. much to my dismay, I had to "see her off." whatever that means. I mean, it was nice though. she really likes me and thinks of me as her sister, since we both don't have one, so yeah. she looked stunning, I was proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ahhh, yes. I went to look at this place Saturday too. I had another place in mind to stay, but apprently my Dad doesn't think it's safe anymore and neither does my mom, so I had to pick somewhere else. I mean, I totally understand where they're coming from. I respect their opinions on it, and know they're only meaning to look out for me and Taylor. so yeah, I went to this place Saturday around 12:30 pm and totally feel in love with it. I mean, I put the deposit down and everything. July 1st is my move in date, HOLLA! so it's official, official. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Blogger deleted what i wrote here about Sunday, WTF &gt;=[&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, I didn't spend my usual 20 hours [exaggeration] talking to Josh, but we still talked a lot and spent lots of quality time together. man, we had kinda got into over some doo-doo that we both didn't like. IDK, it was cool though. we always get back, and always end up better than ever. I know he's not going anywhere, and he damn sure knows I'm not either. that's the best thing about our relationship. like, we've never really ever fought, but even when we have minor disagreements where it could spiral out of control [which could happen a lot of the time], we won't even allow each it to get that far. one of us, usually him though, will always apologize and we'll say I love you like 50 times, and everything is everything. LOL, strangely as it sounds. IDK, whatever. I love him though, that's for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;well, I guess that's it. I kinda ran out of shit to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chao!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6675045049004793588?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6675045049004793588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6675045049004793588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/sabado-domingo-y-lunes.html' title='sabado, domingo y lunes'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8093374606949227453</id><published>2009-04-22T19:53:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T10:11:30.292-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Josh ♥</title><content type='html'>well well well, we meet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sure most of you know that Josh made a blog about me. don't lie and say you didn't, cause yall comment his stuff. so, i'm basically going to hit yall again with more mush. and being as i'm the female version of my baby, it's going to be all lovey dovey. yeah, and all that jazz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah. man, to be honest i don't even really know where to start. i'll start by saying that i love him in every way that a woman can love a man. the past 5 months that i've known him have been the most amazing 5 months with anyone. probably even the most amazing 5 months of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and it's crazy really. i mean, i've probably said this a million times and in tons and tons of different ways, but it's like we're perfect for one another. oddly, strangely, and utterly perfect for one another. it's like, have you ever connected with someone truly on every level possible? i've never done that til now. LOL, i feel like one of those people in the Match.com or eHarmony commercials or some shit. as corny as that sounds, that's exactly what it's like. it's like we're the same person. a lot of people are always like, "i want someone who is just like me, who i can be myself around." man, i've found that person. everything i've ever wanted in a man, in a relationship, everything i've dreamed about, i find inside him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't think i've never been in love in til now. like honestly. i talked to my mom recently about what it is to be in love with someone. she told me, "when you're in love with someone, when you really love them, you'll love them forever. love isn't something where if you fight with your boyfriend, it'll all go away. if you really love that person, you can forgive them for anything. when you love someone they stick with you in your heart forever." hypothetically speaking, i don't think i could ever let Josh go. actually i know i could never let him go. i'd never hold anything against him, and whatever obstacles we'll ever cross i know we can get through them together. and i say "hypothetically speaking" because we've never fought about anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of which, i can always count on Josh for any and everything. we've been through so much together; it seems like we've gone to the end of the earth and back. but man, just like real niggas we get through shit together. when i'm sad, he seems to be the only one that can make me feel better and calm my rage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now that i think about it, not only do i love him, but i need him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've never really needed anyone for anything, but he's different. he's the love of my life. and since he's been apart of my life, i can not be without him. i can't imagine not waking up in the morning at 5 am calling him just to fall asleep again lol. i can't imagine not sleeping with him on the phone at night. i can't imagine not texting him and spending my entire day with him. i've never wanted to spend all my time with someone, the way i want to spend all my time with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which ultimately leads to this. AUGUSTTTTTTTTTTT! when i see him son, i'm gonna run, jump, and kiss all over him forever and ever and ever. amen. LOL, seriously though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've made some pretty steep plans with this man. like stuff people who are in relationships for some years do. a lot of people think we're crazy for "moving too fast" or whatever, but you only have one life. i know who i want to spend the rest of my life with. i know who makes me uncontrollably happy. i know i may not know everything there is to know about the world, but i know that with Josh i am the happiest i'll ever be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;just in case yall think this is a story book fairy tale, lemme show you a lil something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Se-7QtK44AI/AAAAAAAAAVo/VUMO5mRSLHo/s1600-h/text-.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5327682779880153090" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Se-7QtK44AI/AAAAAAAAAVo/VUMO5mRSLHo/s320/text-.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;*i treat him like a KING.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;but yeah, i'm out though. baby has been patiently waiting for me and this. i love you Josh, more than anything in the entire world. i'm so glad that i'm the one you call your woman. being with you makes me the happiest woman on earth. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8093374606949227453?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8093374606949227453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8093374606949227453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/josh.html' title='Josh ♥'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/Se-7QtK44AI/AAAAAAAAAVo/VUMO5mRSLHo/s72-c/text-.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5643274226906827012</id><published>2009-04-20T15:57:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T19:43:15.713-04:00</updated><title type='text'>pull your titties out and dance for me</title><content type='html'>raise your hand if you had a good weekend. -raises hand-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;nah but foreal, things been aight I guess. disclaimer: besides spending nearly my entire Friday in the fucking ER at Dekalb Medical. womp. bruh, if any of yall come to Atlanta/East Dekalb, I advise you stay away from Dekalb Medical. I'm not going to go into full details, cause I don't fuck with all yall like that. the people that cared to know or who I cared to tell know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;moving on, happy 4/20 and shit dawg. shit, I wanna buy a seven of the purp and dutch or grape rello and blaze high as the sky. only problem is, apparently the muscles around my lungs and ribs are inflamed. it pretty much hurts to breathe. I dare not inhale smoke, but I will. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;"so when you die, you might as well be high.&lt;br /&gt;its in heaven or hell. or is it all a lie?&lt;br /&gt;that's why I smoke purple on monday, purple on tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;two glocks cocked so they don't bruise me.&lt;br /&gt;smoking on purple ease my mind, this the shit that we get high to."&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shouts to my baby Josh, my BFF Rob and all his niggas mayne, Rina, Irma and Te.&lt;br /&gt;shouts to the family. Lauren, Dee Dee, Bre, Shamika, Tomika, Mel-Mel, P-Roc, Shells, all yall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want sex. and I'm a thug now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5643274226906827012?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5643274226906827012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5643274226906827012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/pull-your-titties-out-and-dance-for-me.html' title='pull your titties out and dance for me'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7468751123049077363</id><published>2009-04-14T15:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T20:30:06.023-04:00</updated><title type='text'>five two</title><content type='html'>no one should ever make you question what kind of person you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;easy said. easy to do. unless of course its done by someone you care about. makes me question like, why even decide to care about others? should you do it out of common courtesy? why, when they're only gonna hurt you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people only pretend to care about you. they pretend, so you'll trust them, and once you trust them they'll take what they want and leave. like a spoiled fucking child who always wants, wants, wants. you can say yes to all of the above, and the first time you say no, they treat you as though you've never said yes to their ass. ungrateful little assholes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no one likes to be taken for granted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a step back and evaluated my life and those around me now. the list of people I hate is far greater than those I love or that I care about. honestly I don't think its such a bad thing, to someone else it might be outrageous. and you know what, as I now sit and think about it more and more, the people I hate, I'm starting to hate them more and more. and I know you're not supposed to hate people or whatever, but I truly hate a lot people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, I had a talk this weekend. the topic was friends. I honestly don't think I need any friends. I never ask anyone for anything anyway. someone told me that everyone needs friends. no matter how hard you try to play tough, everyone needs a friend. then I got sad because it was true. there's nothing like having someone to share laughs with and share your secrets with. but shit, copy and paste my third paragraph here. friends aint shit, cause people aint shit. Dommie-O says fuckem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my friends are the ones that know of my conditions, and are gonna be there when I have my procedures. my friends are ones that know my daughter and have a relationship with her. my real friends are the ones I take to family functions and have a relationship with my family. I bet that doesn't sound like you, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know, if your someone's friend, wouldn't you take a bullet for them, right? I'd scrap, fight and lose, and take a bullet for my friends. which one of you would do that for me? =/ don't all answer at once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know if this blog makes any sense or if I'm just rambling about a bunch of nothing. I don't know, but I'm having one of those days where I don't wanna talk to anyone and I just wanna be alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;all I wanna see is my babygirl when I get off work, and see that lights work when I get home. that is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, I talked to my grandma today. she wants me to go back to college. I promised her I would. I promised her I'd have a ranch with horses. I gotta make that happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, when I feel like I have no one, my family always comes through. I know I'm not the nicest person, I'm the most respectful person, but I'll do anything for my family. we collide terribly, time and time again, but those are my niggas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"if you love your nigga, hug your nigga."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met up with Mary for lunch today. I miss her face. she's getting ready to move back out to California. her talking about it made me realize that I'm actually gonna miss her and miss our fights. I'm gonna miss her getting on my nerves. I'm gonna miss everything. as much as we fight and say fucked up shit to each other, I love her. honestly, I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with her leaving, and my relationship being the way it is, my move to Kentucky in little over a year shouldn't be hard for me. I'll be leaving my family behind, but I'll be near new family and my new BFF Wild Child &lt;3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ididntspellcheck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7468751123049077363?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7468751123049077363'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7468751123049077363'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/five-two.html' title='five two'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2980189322645210584</id><published>2009-04-14T12:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T12:22:56.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'>pow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;he said he wanted a bad bitch,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so i gave the man what he wanted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;3&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2980189322645210584?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2980189322645210584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2980189322645210584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/pow.html' title='pow!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6257752515941716667</id><published>2009-04-13T18:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T18:36:51.675-04:00</updated><title type='text'>this is probably going to gross you out, but oh well</title><content type='html'>this is how I know Prada loves me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;right now, this every second, I am taking a HUGE dump. -smiles real big- and Prada comes in the bathroom with me. he is currently laying on the rug looking at me. he's such a good boy, following me around the house, making sure I'm safe. even while I'm taking a stinky poo. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hehe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6257752515941716667?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6257752515941716667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6257752515941716667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/this-is-probably-going-to-gross-you-out.html' title='this is probably going to gross you out, but oh well'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5091358740474179111</id><published>2009-04-13T15:58:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T16:31:59.834-04:00</updated><title type='text'>mother fucker</title><content type='html'>so like, it was raining this morning. I figured it was noting more than just a thunder storm or some shit. wrong. around 9 am ish, I hear this weird noise outside. its the goddamn trees swaying from side to side. the wind velocity is crazy. anyway, 9:30 am ish and the power goes out. =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;weird shit always goes on in Downtown Decatur, and usually no where else. so I figure if the lights aren't back on my 12 pm, I'll go to my grandparents. I'm figuring that they'll have power. so from 9:30 to 12 I lay down and take a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on the drive over to my grandparents, I'm noticing that everyone's lights are off and there are no traffic lights working. fucking wonderful. not to mention a tree on every corner that has trampled over powerlines and such.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I make it to my grandparents, and I'm able to charge my phone and lap top. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;apparently there was an "unexpected" tornado that touched down in Dekalb County, which happens to be the county I live in, duh. 220,000 people in the Metro Atlanta area are currently without power. thank God for my taste in smart phones; I can still communicate with those outside my state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, in other news. the Trio is on point. the memebers include, Irma, myself, and Rob. whenever we have time, we do threeways calls and when we don't we're constantly texting each other. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the past weekend was nice. although I've been anti-social towards everyone besides the Trio and my love Josh, it was alright.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my entire family went to my grandparent's lake house. usually, I'm pumped to go cause I like camping and all, but not this time. I wasn't really feeling it I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I spend our weekend together of course. well more like he spent his with his mistress, also known as Madden. =/ lol, just kidding baby. our weekend was great though, we spent countless hours on the phone talking about real shit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love Josh, for so many reasons. I can always learn something from him within any situation I'm in. he knows so much about everything, and always says the right things at the right time. its like I don't even have to hold back on telling him anything, because I know and trust that he won't judge me on anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really timid when it comes to people. like, I can talk to anyone and be friendly, but there has to be that special connection that triggers that makes me want to know you. I can honestly say there aren't many people who really know me or understand the way my mind ticks, but Josh forsure is one of those people. I appreciate it, and I appreciate him so much. I'm so grateful, so thankful to have someone like him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're going to take over the world together, lol. I wanna do it one side of the equator at a time, starting with the southern half, and form the world's largest militia. LOL! he wants to do it one time zone at a time. "tick tock, tick tock" DEAD! we both agree the Chinese will be the toughest to conquer. I shall be the successor though.  join my army. &lt;3 &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"holla if you have me, fuck you if you had me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm out tho shawtyyy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5091358740474179111?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5091358740474179111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5091358740474179111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/mother-fucker.html' title='mother fucker'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6636983220183078990</id><published>2009-04-04T23:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T23:55:16.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>burr!</title><content type='html'>Sharina wants me to post a new blog, so here goes. don't even feel special either bitch, cause you're not. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i had actually had another blog that is still in draft mode and all that good shit, but i suppose this will do now or whatever and shit. i'll save that for another day and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah man, what it dewwww. aint shit really changed. you know how shit is tho. eat, sleep, work; same shit different day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, crushspot. i guess i'll say my piece on that piece of shit ass shit. really, i only log on to talk shit with Telly, Rob, Irma, Shala, and Josh when he decides to log on which is like what, once every two weeks and shit. anyway, lemme start with this : WHO THE FUCK GHOST HITTIN MY SHIT? bruh, and i aint even talking about 1, 2, 3 or 4 times. bruh i'm talking about like 20+ times. a bitch will log in and have like 20+ new hits and shit, when i view my "visitor's log" its the same mother fucker who viewed my shit like 12 hours ago and shit. Telly goin through the same fuck shit too. i aint trippin tho, someone must like our pics or some shit. hollerrrr at a bad bitch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*speaking of which, shout outs to the new homies and shit. Rob, my fuckin head honcho and shit. my nigga fa lyfeeeeee. Irma, my ride or die/main bitch and Shala my bad bitch fa lyfeeeeee. we bad bitches united and shit. on yeah, me and Narada are speaking again. BIMMMM! he is like one of the funniest niggas ever, funny as hayullllll. i see your goonies picture and shit shawty, rofl.  GUCCI!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, i have a seven day break from work. -does the cabbage patch- i don't even know what i'm even gonna do with my spare time. probably lay in bed all day or do some shopping. =] &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my cousin's memorial is that Easter Sunday. i haven't made up my mind if i'm going or not. i kinda wanna go cause i don't really spend that much time with my dad's side of the family, but IDK yet. shits crazy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday is Glenwood Day shaw! shit is goin down! yeah man! you know, since i do live down the street from Glenwood Rd. and shit, you know i  gotta represent for my hood. EAST ATLANTA ZONE 6! but um, skurrr! its suppose to rain and shit Sunday, like thunder storms and shit. so that shit probably gonna be cancelled and shit tho. too bad, cause me and my best nigga aka bust it baybee Telly was gonna ride through that thang one time and look cute and shit. eh, i haven't talked to Josh about it or got him to sign my permission slip, cause its gonna rain and whatnot. bitches like me, skurred of rain and shit. fuck natural hair! &gt;=[ if my shit get wet, i'm gonna be lookin like a straight puerto reffa. so, for tomorrow FML.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;next!  uhh, last week was cool. i uh, spent like 2 days and shit over at my grandparent's and shit. shout outs to Mama 2 and Daddy 2. last week, Telly got out of class early, and we went to my shoe place and to the mall for miscellaneous shit. &lt;3333 man i love my bestie. i dunno about you nigga, but my best friend is the shit. the end. by the way, my boo's birthday is APRIL 10th and shit. the same day as PJ's =/ rofl @ Telly. that was an insider by the way. but yeah, we hittin up some spots and what not. we gon be lookin good as shit, you know. lookin good, smelling good, walkin like models in our 4" and 5" heels and shit. owww! since Trey Songz is single &lt;3 i'm  gonna help her find him so she can hunch him alllll night long. hollerrrrr at a badddd bitchhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my baby daddy randomly popped up at the crib today. like double-u tee eff man. fuck that nigga tho, real shit. i had been ignoring his phone calls for like a week or so. he wanna act like he's all into his daughter and shit when he came over. like, oops nigga please! he doesn't even take care of his daughter, all he does is see her. i hate that nigga, he gets no fuckin respect from me. Josh was basically on the phone with me while he was there. he said that i'm really disrespectful :"&gt;. thanks baby. anyway, that bitch Laurel talking about "i'm filing for child support Monday so i can see her more." BIG LOL, i lol'ed in that niggas face. he must be an idiot. there is not nam court in the state of Georgia that will give him for visitation than he's already getting. i mean, goddamn, he can see Taylor whenever he wanna see her. thing is, he only wanna see her when its convenient for him. pssh,  nigger please. he can kiss my ass with that shit. check this tho, the funnier part is that he wants to file for HIM to pay me child support. read that part again. he's going to file for HIM to PAY ME. ROFL! he must be fucking insane. he can't even pay for Tay's fees at her school on time. me being me, if he don't pay me the money for Tay on time, i'll go to court on that ass &lt;3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, i miss my baby Josh so much. just me sitting here, texting this shit out via sidekick lx reminds me that i'm not on the phone with him. i swear i have the most amazing boyfriend ever &lt;3. i aint lying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the weekends and in the mornings during the week are the best. man we go to sleep together, wake up to each other, all that good shit. i swear man, i hardly know what to do with myself when he isn't around. that's my baby man, real shit. i'm still a G tho. right? right.  of course, you know, we've been spending all of our time together. every day this thing called love gets better and better. he's always there for me and listens to me even when i don't be talking about shit. =/ and man, foreal sometimes i don't be talking about shit. i'm always there for him too. i gotta cheer my baby up, you know. as long as he's happy, i'm good. lol, and since we both going off that theory, we gon be good foreverrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"your eyes like mine. your nose like mine. you walk and talk like me. that's why you the one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can't wait til August. and when August past, i'll be dying for December to come. lol, foreal tho. he's my life, and right now i'm lovin my life. i love you baby. kiss me through the phoneeee &lt;3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but I'm gone. I gotta call my baby. sorry for the spelling mistakes and shit. fuck a spell check and shit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6636983220183078990?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6636983220183078990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6636983220183078990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/04/burr.html' title='burr!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-3575992218350462765</id><published>2009-03-27T15:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T15:36:09.906-04:00</updated><title type='text'>FML</title><content type='html'>so, its 3 pm, school is out, and me, Missy, Dorita, and Eden are going our separate ways. its Friday and I won't see them for the weekend [well maybe Missy] so we're saying our good-byes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: bye yall&lt;br /&gt;all: bye girl&lt;br /&gt;Me: yall have a good weekend, see you guys monday&lt;br /&gt;Dorita: no girl, YOU have good weekend.&lt;br /&gt;Missy &amp; Eden: -laughing-&lt;br /&gt;Me: what chu mean?&lt;br /&gt;Dorita: you been quiet these past couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;Me: oh&lt;br /&gt;Dorita: what's wrong? you need some dick?&lt;br /&gt;Me: [insert shocked face here] -walks away-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fuck my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-3575992218350462765?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3575992218350462765'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3575992218350462765'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/fml.html' title='FML'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8486210549709079027</id><published>2009-03-22T20:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:46:52.894-04:00</updated><title type='text'>fucking a</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;last Friday...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ScOvXUVTPdI/AAAAAAAAAQw/gEdxGr4YR4A/s1600-h/screenshot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315284800357219794" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ScOvXUVTPdI/AAAAAAAAAQw/gEdxGr4YR4A/s320/screenshot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ScOvrZSaj1I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/3LUH3Jw93lo/s1600-h/screenshot2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315285145284677458" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ScOvrZSaj1I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/3LUH3Jw93lo/s320/screenshot2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;because i know you, DeShawn Tyier Miller, read my blog frequently i'll leave this for you to read.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;YES you should give up. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;you know exactly why i hate you. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;stop "praying" for me and wasting your god damn breath.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;lastly, you are NOT a man. you are merely a boy.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;that is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8486210549709079027?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8486210549709079027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8486210549709079027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/fucking.html' title='fucking a'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/ScOvXUVTPdI/AAAAAAAAAQw/gEdxGr4YR4A/s72-c/screenshot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6987038557095779762</id><published>2009-03-20T11:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T11:18:44.864-04:00</updated><title type='text'>skeeeeeeeeeeeet</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.crushspot.com/images/smilies/rolleyes1.gif"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/6/3/1140630/zorba14.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 422px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 251px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/6/3/1140630/zorba14.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://static.crushspot.com/images/smilies/rolleyes1.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 20px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 20px" alt="" src="http://static.crushspot.com/images/smilies/rolleyes1.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/6/3/1140630/zorba14.gif"&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;me and Josh do it nastyyy like this. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;we fuck in style with our sneakers on and err'thang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6987038557095779762?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6987038557095779762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6987038557095779762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/skeeeeeeeeeeeet_20.html' title='skeeeeeeeeeeeet'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-374236766459223291</id><published>2009-03-18T11:18:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T11:20:08.241-04:00</updated><title type='text'>for Nina :"&gt;</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/zgAPFKDL6Sg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/zgAPFKDL6Sg&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-374236766459223291?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/374236766459223291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/374236766459223291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/for-nina.html' title='for Nina :&quot;&gt;'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-195933072888919642</id><published>2009-03-12T22:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T00:21:02.295-04:00</updated><title type='text'>hotdog</title><content type='html'>man, i didn't even realize the date until i drove by the cemetery. in a couple of days it'll be the triplet's birthday [March 19th to be exact] and they would've been 5 years old. every so often i think about how things would've been with them here with us, the family. mason, mackel, mackenzie and taylor all together playing-the two boys together and the two girls together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its crazy because a week or so before their passing, i lost my great aunt. man my mom looks so much like her. i didn't even go to neither her wake or to her funeral/going home memorial because it scared me to see her dead. it would've been like seeing my mom. =/ the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i'm going to have to go by the store this weekend to get them a gift for their graves. i wonder how my cousin is going to take it. i've been talking to her off and on this week, and she's been pretty cheerful, which is good. i know she's going to need us all next week though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hate talking about death. even thinking about it. i know that its inevitable and we all must die per se, but idk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom is mad at me. i haven't really being taking any of my medications. and for how long? beats me. i'm tired of taking pills and injecting myself multiple times a day. if everything happens for a reason, and if our lives are already predestined, why bother? if i'm going to die, then i'm going to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not really religious or anything, but i do believe there is a "higher power" or whatever. sometimes i wonder why things happen they way they do, or why do certain things happen to me. i usually try to ignore it or not think about it. i don't want to be upset with God, and being as we haven't spoken in a while, i just...idk. i just feel like He stopped listening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go ahead and tell me i'm going to hell now. i don't give a fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-195933072888919642?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/195933072888919642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/195933072888919642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/yeah.html' title='hotdog'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4782372555178652874</id><published>2009-03-10T20:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T20:15:46.914-04:00</updated><title type='text'>can a nigga get a table dance</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/e-Rnl7Orxdk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/e-Rnl7Orxdk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEATHHHHHHHHHHHHH x infinity&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4782372555178652874?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4782372555178652874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4782372555178652874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/can-nigga-get-table-dance.html' title='can a nigga get a table dance'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-3112230841144438089</id><published>2009-03-06T21:51:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:23:51.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wtf though</title><content type='html'>you know what though, i'm sick of these mother fuckers calling me fake and shit. like wtf, what i look like stealing someone's pictures and shit? shit is starting to piss me off. i'm not knocking myself or anything, but damn i look like a normal fucking bitch. they act like i'm uploading some 5'11, skinny, light skinned, brazilian model bitch's pictures. god damn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, i just wanted to get that off my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;besides that, today was alright i guess. i suspended one of my students. i tell you, these lil boys be gettin out of hand. and like them being "emotionally" special is not a good fucking excuse. a man, boy, or whatever the fuck, should always respect a woman and her body. i was disgusted and wanted to go off, but i had to remember that he was a student. so, i wrote him up and he was suspended. i don't really care to elaborate on the situation or quote was said, just know that shit wasn't boo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the weather here in Atlanta has been nuts. it like snowed last weekend and shit, and we had like two cold days this week and the rest of the week it's been like 70 degrees out. crazy, huh? yeah tell me about it. but i'm enjoying the sunny days and shit, i'm just dreading the summer heat that'll be coming soon. ugh, i hate being hot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mom bought a lot of make up. i don't know what the hell is going on, but i'm going to find out. she went to this party tonight and the attire was cosmopolitan. wtf, let me find out. i helped her pick her outfit out and gave her some make up tips and what not. i'm waiting up at her house for her ass like i'm the mama. she better be on her best behavior too. cause i would hate to bust a nigga up over my moms, and that's real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my baby daddy talking about he needs to talk to me. apparently he wants closure. =/ so i'm avoiding him and the situation. i don't feel like talking. to be honest, there isn't really much we can talk about...except for Taylor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and his other baby mama, Brandi, been writing each other back and forth on myspace these past couple of days. i'm glad that we were able to move forward from our "beef" if that's what you want to call it. we even made plans to go to the nail salon together when it's time for me to go back. so, we'll be going sometime next week. i'll have an update on that for yall next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've made some friends at the work place. Darita, Missy and Eden. we all go out for breakfast and lunch together and talk about crazy shit. me and Missy connect on a lot of things such as music and shit, which is probably because she's 24 and closer to my age the Eden and Darita. but man, me and Darita talk about the craziest shit together. we're both going to do a totally body cleanse and detox together next week. i'm kinda scared though, cause i don't wanna be like shitting on myself and shit. =/ i'm freakishly scared of laxatives. i did this one detox for like a couple of days and swear i lost like 18 lbs by just pooping, LMAO. all jokes aside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*today Darita and i were talking about vitamin supplements and shit. she gave me some good tips for vitamins to take for hair and stuff like that. then she told me about flaxseed oil. boy oh boy, she said to me, "girl, this is supposed to help keep your vagina moist." i'm tryna play like i dont wanna hear it all like, "DARITA! i am 21, i don't wanna hear that!" you know what she said to me? "hunny, you have a baby, you can hear this shit!" man she got me right there, cause i am grown with a child so i'm gain for any subject in a conversation. i told Josh about the supplement and he died. of course, i don't need it but we both decided that i should try to see if it increases the...flow. hahahaha, whew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Darita looks so young man, i swear like she's 24 or something like that. she told me, "girl, i'm damn near 40!" she is 38 years old. she was telling me this story about how she meet this guy and he asked how old she was and when she told him 38 he was like, "damn you must bust a nut everyday!" DEATH! i wonder if that shit really keeps you looking young, cause if that's the case Josh is making me bust multiple times a day. the end. i informed him and he has no problem with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOL, i remember this one time she came into work all tired and shit. i'm like, "damn, you aight?" she answers, "yeah i'm alright. Darrin gave me some good lovin' that's all, and now i'm so damn tired." DEAD x 340382. Josh said that's going to be in August, holler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, i guess i'll finish this later cause baby called.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-3112230841144438089?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3112230841144438089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3112230841144438089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/wtf-though.html' title='wtf though'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8219442057676021266</id><published>2009-03-04T22:12:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:33:29.159-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wednesday</title><content type='html'>its 9:13 at night and the house is so quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Taylor is sleeping, Prada is in his dog bed laid out and i'm here laying in the dark. i'm logged on to Y! on my sidekick not talking to anyone, listening to Drake flow through my headphones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel like shit. the other night i slipped and fell on the ice outside my car. i tried to save myself from scratching up my face and ended up scraping the palm of my left hand, scraping left knee, and slamming down on my left elbow. my palm still feels like death, like its on fire. i managed to scrap off thick piece of skin, which i later ripped off cause the hanging skin was annoying me. my knee hurts so god damn bad, and my elbow won't stop hurting either. sucks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the past couple of nights, well the last two nights really, i've been taking ambien cr as a sleep aide. shit is amazing, minus the fact that it works instantly. last night i was up talking to Josh laughing my ass off, and right before you know it i was out like a light. best comatized sleep i've had in ages. only problem is, is that i didn't have 8 hours to dedicate for sleep so this morning i looked and felt like a zombie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and Tay went to Fuji Yu Hibachi tonight. shit was amazing. i ordered the steak and shrimp and Taylor got the kid's shrimp. $1 sushi is tomorrow night, so i'll probably hit them up tomorrow for those california rolls dawg. yummmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after dinner i planned on taking her to this carnival they had out in the parking lot of Northlake Mall, but noooooo. that mother fucker don't even open til tomorrow. Tay and i were both hella bummed out. but we'll probably slide through during the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i went to the mall and got me and Tay some creative recreations. maybe its time that we stop matching, but i'm in love with the fact that we match. we already look alike, why not? right? yeah. after that we went to my sandal store and seen the cutest shoes for this summer. i love my bestfriend, Telly, so much that i called to confirm her shoe size and even got her some. i'm the bestest bestfriend ever. yeah i know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and i are constantly planning things for the summer and our future together. he basically blamed me for being the reason why he doesn't want to re-enlist in December. lmao, "i was going to re-enlist then YOU came along. said you'd give me a family and be my wife." -smiles-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i make his world go 'round. and me makes mine move in slow motion. i swear i have so much built up anger from years and years back, but when i'm talking to him nothing even matters. and when we we're not talking everything gets chaotic again. this is usually when i start thinking too much about things that shouldn't matter. the rest is downhill from there. the moral of the story is, i need him to be happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;don't get me wrong, Taylor makes me more than happy. its a different form of happiness though. she makes smile and makes me laugh all the time, but when she's asleep or when she's not around that's when i cry about everything wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ehh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enough about that, Josh treats me so good. so good that sometime i'm sure how to react to things he says or does. i've honestly never had someone who genuinely wanted to do right by me or do anything for me with good intentions. there is always a catch. plus those other dudes i used to fuck with just weren't shit. and looking back on my past relationships i don't know how or why i put up with more than half the shit i put up with. i must be a fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"life is like a photograph. we develop from our negatives."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if that's true, who or what am i? sometimes i'm not sure. the end on that topic, i don't feel like being depressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you know what though, i really appreciate my friends. especially Telly and Mimi. Telly always makes me see the realer things in any situation. even if it might hurt my feelings, she is always real with me. since we've [Telly and i] been friends, i see myself changing and always in a positive direction. that bitch always telling me i need a mentor, but she's been it for 2+ years now. and Mimi, oh Mimi. she's my soulmate lol. no, but we're so much alike when it comes to numerous things and she's always there for me when i need to vent about stupid shit. if no one else can make me smile or laugh hysterically, she makes it happen captain. i'm so coming to Richmond to bump coochies with you my asian faced boo &lt;3. haha, insider. please don't kill me Josh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;umm, the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8219442057676021266?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8219442057676021266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8219442057676021266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/wednesday.html' title='wednesday'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-9164942786245978286</id><published>2009-03-02T14:19:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:12:12.909-05:00</updated><title type='text'>thirty-eight</title><content type='html'>so it's been a while since my last post, and since my last post was nothing more than just some song lyrics, you deserve an update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two days ago, February 28th, was my beloved baby's 22nd birthday. so you can wish him a happy belated if you'd like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of which, him and i have been spending a lot of time together. but then again when are we not spending our time together? right. but like i was saying though, these past couple of days, well the past two days, him and i have spent hours upon hours on the phone. -smiles- he basically spent his birthday with me, which to me was really cute. i was expecting him to go out, but he told me he doesn't really think birthdays are a big deal. so he stayed in and we talked on the phone all day. and yesterday, we spent about a total of 14-15+ hours on the phone. man, we're so gay, right? wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you would think that i would actually get tired of talking to him all that time, but nah. i love talking to him. now that i think about it, and font it, i kinda feel like i'm in high school again or some shit. cause you know when you were in high school and you had a boyfriend, yall used to talk on the phone all night and then turn right back around and see each other at school the next day, right? remember that shit though? hell yeah, that was the shit. but man, we're like twenty-one and twenty-two years old doing this shit. like is that normal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the way, if you said no fuck you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;many of subjects came up in our conversations on the phone. like my friends. for some reason, most of these females that claimed to me my friend or even the ones that i said were my friends, he's never really liked them. you know, with the exception of Telly and Mimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[attn: this does not mean, that i brought up all you guys. so no need to go on a "i hate Josh streak." relax. but ay, the ones which he doesn't like, they pretty much know already.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's crazy because even the females that i would talk to about Josh and our relationship, they even started to get on my nerves. like, i can't stand when people only come to me to talk to me about their problems. like no one else has problems in the world or some shit. it's just like, when i befriend someone, they're all cool at first and we equally have things to talk about, but then the relationship changes. now i'm stuck playing Dr. Phil all the time, and it's annoying. don't get me wrong, i'm not saying i absolutely don't want to hear about my friend's problems or anything, but all the time is a bit much. i don't mind helping my friends through things, or giving them advice about shit...from time to time. but when it becomes an everyday thing, that's when i start signing in yahoo invisible to everyone or putting them on permanently offline.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's what this here blogging shit is for. have a problem, blog it and let whoever wants to hear about it read it and comment it. the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i actually had one female call Josh a broke/cheap nigga. mistake number one: she didn't know him from Adam and Eve. only from what i say about him when we talked about our boyfriends or when she asked how we were doing. mistake number two: she spoke to him.* mistake number three: she called him a broke/cheap nigga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*everyone i talk to does not have to meet my boyfriend, nor do they have to talk to him. i barely trust anyone with a vagina anyway, because bitches are shady. it's not that i do not trust Josh as a man, because i do, but i would hate to have to retort to violence a cut a bitch. with this being said, don't mess with my man bitch. okay? okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another incident: i had this one homegirl tell me that Josh and i weren't going to last because him and I are too much alike. because "opposites attract." first of all, we're not god damn magnets, we're mother fucking human beings. opposites or not, him and i attract. the end, ho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of being alike, we are so much alike. i mean it's to the point where it's scary even. we even laugh alike now. lol, some of you, well probably most of you would be so sickened by this. but oh well, "if you get on that horse, you gotta ride it." -does the rodeo-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that was random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ay baby, remember this?&lt;br /&gt;"Brian Nichols is my cousin."&lt;br /&gt;"that's your cousin foreal?"&lt;br /&gt;"yup."&lt;br /&gt;"man that nigga crazy!"&lt;br /&gt;-silence-&lt;br /&gt;"hell nawl that aint my MUH'FUCKIN cousin."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, i had Josh rolling all weekend man. he thinks i talk like a nigga. i been trying tell him that i'm g'd up from the feet up shawty. nah, but he still calls me a white girl. -blushes- he's the only one allowed to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;random thought...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;normally, i wouldn't do a long distance relationship because it's hard not being around the person you love, but he's worth ever single second of it. don't ask me why, because i can't really put a finger on it. he's just the best man, hands down. just the best. its like i'm him and i are so perfect together, and it's so unexplainable. i don't know, i just know i'd do anything to keep him. plus, he already knows i'm not going anywhere anyway. that's my baby right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he brought up re-enlisting again, of course the conversation didn't last long, but yeah. i'm going to make him talk about it in August when he comes to visit me in Atlanta for twenty odd days or so. -sigh- man, i can't wait to see him. i swear, everything is going to be so perfect with him. both of us are so pumped. i already feel like the luckiest woman alive, imagine how i'll feel in August. total awesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah, we'll be 2 months on Friday. -smiles- hell fucking yeah shawty. damn though, i've meet this guy the day after my birthday and we're already open like this? it seems like i've known him forever though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, it snowed here in Atlanta. excited much? hell naw. it doesn't snow here in the derrty derrty and we're not used to driving in these conditions. so a real nigga like myself is scared shitless to drive. however i did go out yesterday in that shit to get some food. -rubs belly-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what else? school/work was cancelled today. woohoo! i got to sleep in and shit. tay is home with me though, sucks. her and these god damn dogs are driving me insane. oh and my cold is gettin worse. i blame Josh though. he got sick, then i got sick. go figure. other than that, i'm chillin mayne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh yeah, i love you baby. ended.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-9164942786245978286?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/9164942786245978286'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/9164942786245978286'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/03/thirty-eight.html' title='thirty-eight'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2335773722992848536</id><published>2009-02-26T19:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:13:28.787-05:00</updated><title type='text'>let's get this paper</title><content type='html'>"yeah when you think about us, think about it, we don't own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nothin&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;if we get money, we got a little few dollars,&lt;br /&gt;but our whole family tore up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nigga&lt;/span&gt;, you're &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gettin&lt;/span&gt;' money for the&lt;br /&gt;people in your family that ain't got &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;nothin&lt;/span&gt;'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when it's all said and done, what do you own?&lt;br /&gt;you don't own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;nothin&lt;/span&gt;', you don't own you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;nigga&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;playin&lt;/span&gt;' basketball, he don't own that jersey.&lt;br /&gt;he can't even be in a commercial with his name on the back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so when it's really all said and done, what did you do this for?&lt;br /&gt;what difference did you make?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Rich Boy &lt;em&gt;"Let's get this Paper"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2335773722992848536?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2335773722992848536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2335773722992848536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/let.html' title='let&apos;s get this paper'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-7932458401251719395</id><published>2009-02-24T07:53:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:57.774-05:00</updated><title type='text'>there is a limit to all things</title><content type='html'>now i know i say some fucked up shit sometimes, but damn there is a limit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;its to the point where one is not just talking about people to crack jokes, but its escalated to that point that a person begins to talk about someone else for underlying reasons. i'm not pointing any fingers, naming names nor am i trying to diagnose anyone of any complex. simply because i do not have a degree in psychology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lets just get that right for starters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with that being said, this one female i used to communicate with took something, in my eyes, a bit too far.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;situation : there is this other girl i communicate with on CS that just recently found out that she was pregnant. she showed me pictures and i can tell that she's pregnant because of her "baby bump" but she merely just figured she was gaining weight. there was no thought of her even being pregnant because she was still receiving her monthly cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, not long after my friend tells me she's pregnant, she tells me that this one girl is calling her fake in one of her post on CS. after her telling me who it is, i clearly state that i know the girl she's talking about. so i tell her I'll ask her why she thinks she fake &amp;amp; i'd tell her why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i hit her up on yahoo asking if she thought this chick was fake &amp;amp; her reasoning behind it, because me knowing her, i'm thinking she would have a legit reason. for example, one of the admin making a post saying her and other screen names have the ip address. [which can't be trusted by the way]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so, I'm talking to my friend and she explains that she think she's fake because she's saying just found out she was pregnant and is lying about it. basically saying, she already knew she was pregnant. that's when i think about it and i'm like, "yeah she has a point." because this pregnancy was random. I later dismiss it the conversation because I remember ol' girl telling me she was still getting her period. and because the girl I know refers to her unborn baby as "a bastard child" which pisses me off, because it offends me. i'll expound later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go back to my pregnant friend and explain to her why the girl I know thinks she's fake or whatever. and she tells me that my friend has made her own post about this girl; calling her fake, posting her pictures, going on and on about the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by now I'm irritated with the situation, and i tell not to let it bother her. but she's all in the post trying to prove she's real, telling people to add her myspace because she has proof on there that's she real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;at that point I'm completely disgusted and offended. because not only was this girl someone i communicated with on and off the site and referred to as a friend, but she's going to major lengths to disrespect this girl. and number two, the whole "bastard child/bastard baby" thing urks me because she knows, along with everyone else, that I had my daughter out of wedlock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't give a damn who you think you are, you don't go around poking fun at a pregnant woman and you certainly do not call their unborn child a bastard whether it is politically correct or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it only makes me wonder what she would say about me and/or my child behind my back. "oh Ashlee and her bastard daughter." =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like i said, its some stuff you do and some you don't. there is some stuff you say and some stuff you don't fix your mouth to say. as a person, a grown ass woman/man at that, you should know where and when to draw the line, that's all i'm saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for me to communicate or befriend someone who can speak or say something like that with no flinch? hardly. i'm big on respect. as a woman, as a once pregnant woman and now as a parent, i feel disrespected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and for the record, if the person i'm talking about is reading this blog, i am woman enough to say whatever i need to say to you or anyone else. i do not have "beef" with you nor did i ever have "beef" with you before. at the end of the day, you are just a girl on the internet whom I do not know in real life, and i'm sure I'm the same to you. just being real. lastly, there is no animosity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've voiced my opinion, and i'm out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-7932458401251719395?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7932458401251719395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/7932458401251719395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/there-is-limit-to-all-things.html' title='there is a limit to all things'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2986684201439526151</id><published>2009-02-13T12:57:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:52.846-05:00</updated><title type='text'>photoshop</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v235/232/16/538145216/n538145216_2741046_3413.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-sf2p/v235/232/16/538145216/n538145216_2741046_3413.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;so, Shane photoshopped my picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;i look so fake =/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;call me asian and i will be forced to end your life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the end.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2986684201439526151?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2986684201439526151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2986684201439526151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/photoshop.html' title='photoshop'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1881732229593271034</id><published>2009-02-13T12:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:48.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>034</title><content type='html'>"when i was a kid i used to pray every night for a new bicycle. then i realized God doesn't work that way. so, i stole one and prayed for forgiveness."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"how many people where have telekinetic powers?" -raises my hand-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"never be afraid to try something new. remember, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;armatures&lt;/span&gt; built the ark. professionals built the titanic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“oh, you hate your job? why didn't you say so? there's a support group for that. it's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“since light travels faster than sound, people appear bright until you hear them speak.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“your heart is my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;piñata&lt;/span&gt;.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you're just as pretty without makeup on. one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares and how lucky his is to have you.... the one who turns to his friends and says, 'that's her.'”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“tears are words the heart can't express.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“life's disappointments are harder to take when you don't know any swear words.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“to wish you were someone else is to waste the person you are.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“there's no half-singing in the shower, you're either a rock star or an opera diva.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“you haven't lost your smile at all, it's right under your nose. you just forgot it was there.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“they may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1881732229593271034?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1881732229593271034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1881732229593271034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/034.html' title='034'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-783582467017394847</id><published>2009-02-12T19:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:44.462-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cheese</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZS7nVe2DZI/AAAAAAAAAKc/8ee42xR2KmE/s1600-h/yelloww2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302068945777724818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZS7nVe2DZI/AAAAAAAAAKc/8ee42xR2KmE/s320/yelloww2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; yeah, so my ugly ass took another new picture and shit. god, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; smiling on this one. so enjoy this shit. of course, there is a story behind the smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, the other day someone asked me a question that kinda made me feel bad about my non-smiling. i mean, i look nice and everything, don't get me wrong, but i don't smile much. anyway, there's the conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;him: why you look so unhappy?&lt;br /&gt;me: huh? nah, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; good.&lt;br /&gt;him: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been looking at you and you haven't smiled one time. you just look unhappy i guess.&lt;br /&gt;me: smile?&lt;br /&gt;him: yeah you know what you do when you're happy?&lt;br /&gt;me: why should i smile if i have no reason to smile?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i mean, who just randomly smiles all the time? maybe i am different and maybe normal people do smile &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt; or whatever. i don't just sit around and smile, or when i look at people and they look at me i smile at them. that shit is just weird to me though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;dont&lt;/span&gt; get it twisted, it's not that i don't ever smile. i smile when i with Telly, cause i be fucking laughing my ass off. Josh &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tay&lt;/span&gt; make me smile. and when i talk to Mimi, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Koko&lt;/span&gt;, Rina and my other friends i smile too. all them niggas funny as fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;, which reminds me. Josh cheesing ass. i be having my baby smile all the time. that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;nigga&lt;/span&gt; right there makes me smile and blush all the time. say his name one time, i swear i brighten up and smile real big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;shawty&lt;/span&gt;. but yeah, that's it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this blog is pretty much pointless, i just wanted to post my picture really. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;, gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-783582467017394847?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/783582467017394847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/783582467017394847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/cheese.html' title='cheese'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZS7nVe2DZI/AAAAAAAAAKc/8ee42xR2KmE/s72-c/yelloww2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-3148373082709914074</id><published>2009-02-11T13:08:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:39.295-05:00</updated><title type='text'>this is what real love looks like</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZMVJmhfYzI/AAAAAAAAAKM/TUU1xk6eK1M/s1600-h/text.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301604441049228082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 192px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZMVJmhfYzI/AAAAAAAAAKM/TUU1xk6eK1M/s320/text.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; enough said, the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-3148373082709914074?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3148373082709914074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/3148373082709914074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-what-real-love-looks-like.html' title='this is what real love looks like'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZMVJmhfYzI/AAAAAAAAAKM/TUU1xk6eK1M/s72-c/text.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6033758697551713130</id><published>2009-02-11T09:24:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:17.520-05:00</updated><title type='text'>wifers/hubster</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZLfz3Jr6CI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zNr35OeKitw/s1600-h/hubster.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301545793439393826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 191px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZLfz3Jr6CI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zNr35OeKitw/s320/hubster.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;oh yeah, me and my wife got matching tattoos last night. shout outs to my wife Mary, i love you shawtyyy. so we're pretty much bonded for life, and that bitch better not ever think about leaving me or walking out i'll stab her. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;-smiles-&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;anyway, there is a story behind the tattoo, because i know you're probably think my tattoo is dumb. but yeah, the 6+9=69 is and inside joke. basically, Mary and i say alot of dumb shit all the time, sooooo we got that. andddddd i don't care if you think it's dumb. she got Wifers cause i call her Wifers and i got Hubster cause, yeah, that's me right there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;no homo, no funny business...cause i got a man and shit now. lol, i'm only playing. for real Josh, don't Chris Brown me. LMAOOOO, oh yeah and shout outs to Chris Brown. i'm buying ALL his albums this weekend. and lastly, since i save the best for last, shout outs to you baby. MUAHHHH! i love you Daddy.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;well that's it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6033758697551713130?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6033758697551713130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6033758697551713130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/oh-yeah-me-and-my-wife-got-matching.html' title='wifers/hubster'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SZLfz3Jr6CI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/zNr35OeKitw/s72-c/hubster.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8800649307698848244</id><published>2009-02-11T09:15:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:10.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>he got that wood</title><content type='html'>i love Mimi &amp;amp; our Y! conversations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------- 9:00 am ----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Alright&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: Josh is following your blog, :).&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Lol I saw that&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: he's such a good boy.&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: I'm going to take a pic of his crotch, and copy you.&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Lol he seems like he has a huge wang, so catch him when he's in some tight drawls&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: his penis is colossal.&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Dhgf&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: yum, i know.&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: im going to swallow it whole.&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Ew&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: :"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Travis has a tiny penis&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: nuh uh! for real?&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Lol no&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: He's extra large down below&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: oooh you nasty.&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: lol, im so puttin this on blogspot&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: And he likes to slap me in the face with it when we're bored.&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Lol idc&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: LMFAOOOOOOOO.&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: bitch go away.&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Lmao&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: No&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Never been slapped with a penis?&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: :(, no.&lt;br /&gt;lovee.hate: Aw man you don't know what you're missing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh, slap me in the face with your penis, k? kthanks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8800649307698848244?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8800649307698848244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8800649307698848244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/he-got-that-wood.html' title='he got that wood'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8493158253957206525</id><published>2009-02-10T13:34:00.014-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:11:05.045-05:00</updated><title type='text'>blowin' killa, sippin' lean</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;RIP PIMP C&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn36/slangindope/RIPPIMPC2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn36/slangindope/RIPPIMPC2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; word. so maybe it wasn't lean, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;but i sholl was on that malibu &amp;amp; cranberry juice. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;shout outs to Telly on the photography, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Fitzroy for the song [malibu &amp;amp; cranberry juice]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mack Maine for the blog title &amp;amp; myspace on the LX. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;location : Mercer University; Macon, GA&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;good times, good times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8493158253957206525?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8493158253957206525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8493158253957206525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/blowin-killa-sippin-lean.html' title='blowin&apos; killa, sippin&apos; lean'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-879752912433215240</id><published>2009-02-10T11:54:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:33:06.285-04:00</updated><title type='text'>tuesday, february tenth, two thousand and nine</title><content type='html'>today is so beautiful man. the sun is shining, the birds are chirping. -smiles- i love this early spring time weather. it makes me feel all pretty and what not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, let's get to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the love of my life came over for lunch today [that's Telly by the way] -blushes- she actually came from class and picked me up from my house and we went to Publix and got some subs, a fruit cup, and a raspberry arizona ice tea. diet much? you better believe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check my meal:&lt;br /&gt;i got a half sandwich, turkey on wheat with mayo and mustard, swiss cheese, lettuce,tomato, pickles, olives, banana pepper, oil and vinegar. red grape fruit &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, we eat our food in all of 15 minutes, watched some Jerry Springer, she changed clothes [and i watched]* and i told her thanks for lunch. told her we should do this again. i got my baby back again, hollaaaaaa!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;expound? she told me she needed a few days. which is understandable. everyone goes through things. some people get over things by talking to other people about it. Telly and I don't like to be bothered. so i gave her, her few days. and when i couldn't take it anymore, when i started going through bestfriend withdrawal, i had to call her. anddd that's pretty much how we set up our lunch rendezvous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*no i did not really watch her change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah, this blog is taking me forever to do. i got my nails done yesterday. YESSS! i went like two weeks without having my nails done at all. i felt like the ugliest woman alive. anyway, i fucked around and got my nails done superrrr long. like ghetto, Shaniqua long. -smiles-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm sad, cause i had to get a full set. ugh, Cindy did my nails the last time i got em done and them hoes were breaking off. so i got my nail clippers and took my acrylics off. -sigh- so know i'm back at ground zero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;good news! Linda was there and so was Leena. see, Linda is a beast with the acrylic and Leena hooks me up with the pedicures and eye brow wax. i'm officially a bad bitch again, and it feels great. i mean, i walked out of there spending like $70, but it was well worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and Mary are going to get our husband/wife tattoos today FINALLY. dang, i've been ready. i'm pretty excited about it. just because i love tattoos very much. i realized that Mary really is my bestfriend. i mean, there are plenty of times when i don't understand her, or can't put a finger on her and why she does the things she does, but in the end i always love her.* -smiles- because when it all comes down it in the very very end, i can say that she understands me and i understand her. yeah. we're all gonna get through this thing called life, feel me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*i mean, Telly is my bestie to the extreme and err'thang, but i love Mary too. i ride or die for my bitches man. i just had to, you know, remind you that they are BOTH my bestfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of tattoos, this makes me think of the most amazing man in my life. my baby, Josh. MUAH! -takes a deep breath- i don't even know where to start when it comes to him. i swear i can talk about him all day if you let me, or until you tell me to shut up. but yeah, we're like gonna be so tatted up. it's so cute though. we're going to look so different, but we want to live nice just like anyone else. i can imagine us moving into this nice ass white neighborhood and them peeping our tattoos and me with my piercings, "here goes the neighborhood." HA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll just keep counting down until the summer when i can see my baby, hug my baby, kiss my baby, and love him like no woman has ever loved him in his entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, we've made some major plans. beautiful plans, that i can't wait to happen. i'm just so ready to live this life with him. which makes me remember that him and i have yet to talk about re-enlisting. i can't say why we haven't, i guess we just haven't. i suppose i'll bring it up tonight, but reading his blog i can see that he's some what made up his mind about it. he wants to live a "normal civilian life" with me. -sigh- i don't even know man. i just know that i want him so much, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep him around forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man, that's it for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-879752912433215240?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/879752912433215240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/879752912433215240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/tuesday-february-tenth-two-thousand-and.html' title='tuesday, february tenth, two thousand and nine'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1058679022710515396</id><published>2009-02-04T18:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:10:52.991-05:00</updated><title type='text'>photo shoot</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;so me and Tay got bored &amp;amp; shit. enjoy niggas.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojHL5fAwI/AAAAAAAAAIs/sd0w_HOcSb0/s1600-h/tank3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299086517914764034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojHL5fAwI/AAAAAAAAAIs/sd0w_HOcSb0/s320/tank3.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojG39wAGI/AAAAAAAAAIk/SqzWPYqTOTU/s1600-h/tank2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299086512563945570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojG39wAGI/AAAAAAAAAIk/SqzWPYqTOTU/s320/tank2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojG_vOxfI/AAAAAAAAAIc/xZ0Yysq_lEw/s1600-h/tank.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299086514650531314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojG_vOxfI/AAAAAAAAAIc/xZ0Yysq_lEw/s320/tank.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;call me pale &amp;amp; i'll stab you, bitch. real shit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1058679022710515396?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1058679022710515396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1058679022710515396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/photo-shoot.html' title='photo shoot'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SYojHL5fAwI/AAAAAAAAAIs/sd0w_HOcSb0/s72-c/tank3.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-202910989194759515</id><published>2009-02-04T09:24:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:10:12.554-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yeah, i like all that</title><content type='html'>but yeah, i'm saying though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday morning was the worse. i nearly couldn't breath and shit reading his font. like, i don't know it was crazy. Josh and I were talking about a lot, about him wanting to re-enlist in the navy or whatever, which i mean if that's what he wants to do i 100% support his decision. and i'll be there for him no matter what. i really don't know how to explain this, because the conversation between him and i has yet to be finished. basically, he wants to re-enlist, but he doesn't want to for many reasons; most of which have to do with the future plans that we've been making. it was just so emotional man, like on some real shit. we were contemplating slowing down, you know, and take it at a snail's pace i assume. i don't know. i just know the conversation isn't done yet. so, the end on that subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;other than the mishaps there, yesterday was pretty cool, you know. as usual, i spent the majority of my day talking to Josh, all of which is always a pleasure. man, now that i think about it, yesterday was a really emotional day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i have so many secrets man, but i was actually able to break out of my realm and share some deep shit with Josh. it was really hard, but once i started i felt a lot better after letting a lot of things out. him and i came to the conclusion that we need to stop bottling things up, because he does the same thing. plus, i want to be able to talk about anything with him. and already, he knows me better than most people. -smiles-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then him and i got the subject of what if's. like what if we never would've gotten together what we think we would be doing. lol, this nigga swears he would've been a playa. pssh, that nigga aint no playa. he said that i probably would've been back with DeShawn. -vomits- when angels become demons and pigs can fly and when i'm nice to EVERYONE, that's when i'll be back with DeShawn. and sinceeee that would never ever, never ever happen, it's...not happening. anyway, i honestly think that i would still be single, chillin and shit. tryna get some dumb nigga to spend his money on me, and get them thirsty niggas at the club to buy my literally thirsty ass a few drinks and shit. yeah, you know how a bitch do. he talking about he would've been single too, just chillin and shit and him and i would still be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, man when me and this nigga Josh was just friends we was too cool. that was my nigga man. i wish yall could see the conversations that me and this dude used to have. straight fun man, 24/7 and shit. i used to have him dying laughing at me ALL the time. i swear, i got jokes for days. and man, this nigga would talk so crazy to me. cool ass nigga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, i went to my aunts house to kick it with Shermel and Tomika. went to the beauty supply store off E. Ponce de Leon and Brockett Rd. and shit. man it's a barber shop and shit right next to that beauty supply store and shit, and ugh. anyway, i'm kicking it on the bench outside the store eating some flammin' hot cheetos hot fries and shit, talking to Josh on yahoo and this nigga comes up to me and stands in front of me. i glance up at him, and i go back to my yahoo conversation not paying him any mind. but this nigga still standing in front of me, staring hard as shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm like, "you studying my face or something mayne?"&lt;br /&gt;-"yeah, you're pretty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i laugh, and tell Josh how this nigga ALL in my face and shit. lol, baby got mad as shit. but he don't know that i got this. this nigga bend down, like he tryna give me a kiss or some shit and i let out the biggest, loudest burp in my life, i swear. well not the loudest, but man, it was pretty manly. Telly, man, if you were there you would've given me a certified 10 shawty. Andre would be so proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"BURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP! the fuck out my face bruh, back up."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;death x 273302843029432, i know that nigga smelled them hot ass chips all on my breath and shit. i stuck my finger in my mouth to get the red shit off my finger, and i smile. this nigga look like he wanted to vomit all over his self. by that time, my cousins coming out the store and Shermel all like, "ewww, Ashlee!" and they point and laugh at this nigga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OOPS! -giggle- who said bad bitches can't burp?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so they get in Tomika's new whip and head to the house, and i hop in the charger. holla! but yeah, i'm gettin the car and shit and this otherrrr nigga in my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like damn, can a bitch breathe? i know i'm kinda cute, but damn. -flips hair-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, this nigga all in my car window, "damn that's you? damn baby, you sexy as hell." i'm all blushing and shit, cause i immediately think of Josh since he drives a charger and shit. so, i'm like, "yeah this me, i be stuntin like my daddy." and i pull of in that bitch. ZOOM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, we, Josh and i, closed our night together sending each other music and what not. man, Josh listens to some crazy as shit. but yoo, i'm so upset that i'm totally in love with the Mack Maine song. -frowns- it's the shit man. so i'm like puttin it on my blog and shit. yall niggas get jigg one time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"she said her baby daddy, he just a bum. he aint never fuck her right, she aint never even cum. she said the rubber broke, but she don't believe in abortion. and he's a pussy nigga, he don't giver her, her portions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLLA!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;IN OTHER NEWS...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DeShawn bitched out on Josh. lol, that nigga talks to much shit about him, but when he had the chance to talk to that nigga one on one or whatever, he bitched out. WOMP! it was funny as fuck. that's all i got to say about that shit, he doesn't deserve a long section in my blog. the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this bitch Telly is the funniest bitch alive, the end. she's at the doctor right now, and i'm talking to her on yahoo while i blog and what not. lemme copy and paste this shit. i love my bitch man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: ugh, why am i still on my period?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh will receive your messages on a mobile phone. Since some wireless carriers charge per text message, you may want to send a long message rather than several shorter messages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: smh you trippin&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: girl, i'm dying. the end.&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: lmao @ the end man the doctor told me I have to go back to the gyno&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: she scaring me!&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: wtf, they better fix you. she gonna stick that picture taking dildo in your cooty cat again.&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: lmao fuck you!&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: girl why they sell NOTHING but Magnum condoms in the Kaiser pharmacy, WOOT WOOT!&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: HOLLA! you better get at one of them niggas tryna purchase em.&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: lmao there is nothin but old men in here you know real niggas don't have insurance unless they in the military and that's by default&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri: lmaooo, bitch go away! i'm so dead cause you're right!&lt;br /&gt;iim_s0_fr3sh: lol for real!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that's all for this blog, there isn't anymore.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-202910989194759515?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/202910989194759515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/202910989194759515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/yeah-i-like-all-that.html' title='yeah, i like all that'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5637769798412204196</id><published>2009-02-03T11:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:10:17.339-05:00</updated><title type='text'>trip to Macon</title><content type='html'>&lt;embed src="http://i300.photobucket.com/player.swf?file=" width="448" height="361" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5637769798412204196?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5637769798412204196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5637769798412204196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/02/trip-to-macon.html' title='trip to Macon'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2963857971706276441</id><published>2009-01-30T22:02:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:10:22.872-05:00</updated><title type='text'>this ho</title><content type='html'>check this shit out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:49:46 PM): aye guh i seen the smallest penis ever and how bout he asked me for head i replied " i choke on small things"&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:49:58 PM): LMFAO wow&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:50:04 PM): hell yeah&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:50:11 PM): little ass dick&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:51:01 PM): how small was it?&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:51:16 PM): like a 4 inch&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:51:32 PM): he pulled it out i was like " yikes"&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:52:23 PM): LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:54:00 PM): lmmfao i was deceased&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:54:27 PM): lol, this bitch said deceased.&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:54:53 PM): i did him or whatever and he had the nerve to say " i beat dat pussy out da frame" i was like u didnt graze my wall then he gave me 200 dollars&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:54:57 PM): i didn't even ask for it&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:55:46 PM): whoa&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:56:20 PM): i know right he said " thats the best pussy i had since i been in ga"&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:56:57 PM): then he was on top and he thought i was moaning but i was gruntin cuz i couldnt breathe cuz he was suffocatin me&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:57:06 PM): tryin to lay on me&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:57:09 PM): lmmfao&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:57:10 PM): aww man&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:57:39 PM): lmfao&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:57:41 PM): yo an ass&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (1/30/2009 9:57:43 PM): you-&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:57:57 PM): lmmfao&lt;br /&gt;latavia ward (1/30/2009 9:58:07 PM): talkin bout he swole nigga u fat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i don't even understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2963857971706276441?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2963857971706276441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2963857971706276441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/this-ho.html' title='this ho'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1052095361431330275</id><published>2009-01-28T13:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:10:27.421-05:00</updated><title type='text'>cold slap a nigga</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZdi0FPjjRk&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TZdi0FPjjRk&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;deaddddddddddddddd. this one is especially for Josh &amp;amp; Telly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1052095361431330275?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1052095361431330275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1052095361431330275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/cold-slap-nigga.html' title='cold slap a nigga'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4523283223944019644</id><published>2009-01-28T13:35:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:09:21.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>LMFAO, more condoms</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/jAsVTSZTV0w&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/jAsVTSZTV0w&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;you gotta love it. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4523283223944019644?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4523283223944019644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4523283223944019644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/lmfao-more-condoms.html' title='LMFAO, more condoms'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6533221293971653547</id><published>2009-01-28T11:24:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T12:08:58.008-05:00</updated><title type='text'>021</title><content type='html'>so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sittin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; here listening and singing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Paramore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; at the top of my lungs, and i said to my self, "i think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; blog about some shit today." and my self replied back, "hell yeah folk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so here i am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; start with recent shit, and work myself back because i can't remember shit off the top of my head right now. and being as i haven't really posted anything to really read per &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;se&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, i would say that it was important that i remember some of this shit for you guys. you feel me? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;yuh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;last night was so interesting. i actually spent time with my mother, which is a first. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;yenno&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, we watched &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; together for hours and we actually talked. like, on some g shit. it felt like i was meeting my mother for the very first time in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dunno, growing up i can remember my mom up until about second grade in elementary school. like i can remember her being there when i was in preschool, picking me up and being proud of me at my ballet recitals. i remember the smile on her face when i graduated from preschool, and that trip we took to Disney World. i can remember her helping me sell girl scout cookies when i was in kindergarten and picking me and my elementary school &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;bestfriend&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Ashley up and taking us to the park. i remember how she used to watch me at the stables when i rode horses and being at my horse shows, smiling at me when i won my ribbons. then second grade happened, and she stopped believing in me or something. i dunno what happened, because of course i was a small child at the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but i just remember getting into trouble over something that was written in my diary as a child, but i did not write it. i remember her yelling at me and telling me to tell the truth. dear God, and i walking through those double doors at Kaiser &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Permanente&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to see the psychiatrist like there was something wrong with me. there was nothing i wanted more in the world for my mother to be proud of me. til this day i can remember our conversation. i told her that if she did this to me i would never talk to her again, ever. ha, a very outspoken child i was. and very mature for my age. but then again that's what they say about all children that are the only child. anyway, the point is i have never really spoken to her since that day. of course i went along with procedure and talked to the doctor and she did her job. there was nothing wrong with me. i did not lie, but my mother was not convinced.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my mother was the type of parent that was consumed with her job. she is a cardiac registered nurse, so she worked from the time i went to school til about 6 in the evening or later. from the time i started middle my mother was never really around. i was old enough to walk the 5 or so odd blocks to school, and so i did every morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; grade up until graduation, my life and my mother's life were separate. i don't blame my mother for not being around, well yeah i do. because i don't see why she tried to get to know me or ask me how my day was. to this day i don't understand how you could choose your job over your child. i keep saying i don't blame her for all the shit i got into, like smoking and underage drinking, but in the end i do blame her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my memories haunt me, and i have a lot of resentment towards her, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; grown now so whatever. it doesn't matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just a child should not have to grow up on it's own, ever. teaching themselves everything about life. living and learning their way through the world by pick and choose. i basically taught myself everything in life. i taught myself about people, who was real, who you should love and who you should care for. i taught myself to be a mother and how to be responsible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was just nice to finally talk to her, and have a conversation with her without all the yelling and the animosity and shit. i mean, i love my mom though. because...well aren't you supposed to love your mother? but i don't understand. don't get me wrong, i did not open up to her like an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;encyclopedia&lt;/span&gt; book or some shit, but i did piece her in a fraction of my life. i just don't trust her, but then again how can you trust someone you haven't spoken to in over a decade? in reality, we are still broken. but the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;experience&lt;/span&gt; was nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; so done talking about this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in other news, Josh and I are great. amazing even. -smiles- he's the most perfect person for me, i swear it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;buttttt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; not going to make you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;niggarachies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; gag on the subject of me and my significant other. just know that we're amazing. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; update you guys on the wedding date and shit, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;LMAO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;speaking of which, Josh met Taylor. it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; freaking funny. she was like, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;whaddup&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Jo!" when i gave her the phone to talk to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ironically, a few days before that when he called i was in the car with my cousins &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;Breanna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, Deanna, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Tomika&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;Breanna's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; boyfriend David. anyway, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Breanna&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; asked me who i was on the phone with, and i said Josh. this bitch, "Jo Jo!" and then Deanna piped in, "how does it feel to have Vanessa as a sister?" i had to let that one marinate for a minute, but then realized she talking about them damn girls from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;Run's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; House and shit. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;harhar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; hoes. =/ so yeah, that made it even funnier that Taylor called him Jo. but yeah, she basically copies everything he says. -shrugs- she must think he's funny or something. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; glad they like each other though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;which reminds me, me him and Telly bullshitted on the phone for an hour or so. it was the funniest shit ever. yet another person that thinks Telly and I sound alike. not only do we say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; of the same expressions, but we sound alike too. i was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;deadd&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh ass, "which one of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;yall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; said that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it was so funny. its always funny when Telly and I are on the phone with a guy. we completely take over. well we're just some bitches that run shit anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, so i called my mom on the house phone while they were both on my cell phone on a conference call. and Josh was like, "DAMN! you loud, put the phone down." mind you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on the phone with my mom, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; not really paying much attention to the conference call, and my mom said something...i don't really remember what it was...but i was like,"yeah, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;aight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;." Telly was like, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;whatttt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, did you just...???" i was like, "nah nah, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on the phone with Paulette." she let out a big WHEW!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;haha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, if you don't know, i have never like never ever ever ever done what i guy has told me to do. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; so hard headed and headstrong. plus, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; just to being the dominate one in relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;then here goes Josh, "nah she was saying &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;aight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; to me, shit. she know i run it!" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;LMAO&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, it was so damn cute. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;lol&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, yeah baby you run it, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_44"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;aight&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;? i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_45"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; gonna front, he wears the pants in the relationship, but only cause i let him. so don't it fool you. so you know what that means right? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_46"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; actually running things, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_47"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;nahmsayin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_48"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;yeahdat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_49"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;ohhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; yeah, last thing. so yesterday, Josh and I stayed home. not on purpose to talk to one another ALL day or anything like that, i was just having a bad day at work and my boss sent me home. but yeah, we ended up talking ALL day and shit. we are so lame, we did like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_50"&gt;photo share&lt;/span&gt; and shit on yahoo and were showing each other pictures. like...yeah. anyway, the point &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_51"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; trying to make here is that Josh looks like such a white boy AND he poses for pictures. BIG &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_52"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_53"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, well he posed in the one picture. i was freaking dead. too bad i didn't save the picture to my computer cause i would've totally posted that bitch. but yeah, we're having babies and shit and we're going to live happily ever after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;he loves me, i love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;fin.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6533221293971653547?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6533221293971653547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6533221293971653547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/021.html' title='021'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-8060036876720511073</id><published>2009-01-22T19:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:28:09.475-05:00</updated><title type='text'>:(</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/cIwTYL1fwJk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/cIwTYL1fwJk&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;i'm fucking deadddddddddddddd, God i hate you Josh for showing me this video.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-8060036876720511073?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8060036876720511073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/8060036876720511073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/blog-post.html' title=':('/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1671376072399378101</id><published>2009-01-16T11:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T19:30:59.320-05:00</updated><title type='text'>get it on!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/yWNyAV3bBqw&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/yWNyAV3bBqw&amp;amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;amp;color2=0xcfcfcf&amp;amp;feature=player_embedded&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROFL, this shit cracks me up.&lt;br /&gt;be safe kids, wrap it up. safe sex is the best sex.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1671376072399378101?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1671376072399378101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1671376072399378101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/get-it-on_16.html' title='get it on!'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-2173121798463689300</id><published>2009-01-12T18:38:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T19:55:59.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>flick</title><content type='html'>sooooo i took a new picture today, check a bitch out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SWvUv9fuyUI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gjrVXsbCExE/s1600-h/uggabooga2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290556107703372098" style="WIDTH: 226px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SWvUv9fuyUI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gjrVXsbCExE/s320/uggabooga2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now tell me how pretty i am, bitch.&lt;br /&gt;naw i'm playing, i'ma uggabugga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIKE, bad bitches unite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-2173121798463689300?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2173121798463689300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/2173121798463689300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/flick.html' title='flick'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SWvUv9fuyUI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gjrVXsbCExE/s72-c/uggabooga2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-1378892201456178153</id><published>2009-01-08T18:52:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T12:55:48.547-05:00</updated><title type='text'>be my baby moma &amp; shit</title><content type='html'>so, i've been talking and caking with Josh alot. and when i say alot, i mean alot alot alot alot. like every second of my day, minus when i shower, i stay talking to him. and i only mention the shower part because i will actually talk to him in the shower if i wanted to. cause me &amp;amp; Telly still stay on the phone while we shower...no homo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, monday night we, Josh and i had, got into a fight. yenno, a little falling out. basically it was all over a "misunderstanding" or what not. i was over at my grandparent's house to pick Prada's ass up and shit. of course i'm talking to Josh on yahoo and what not. lemme sample this conversation for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh: mannnn&lt;br /&gt;Me: what?&lt;br /&gt;Josh: nothing i'm bored&lt;br /&gt;Me: oh so i bore you, huh?&lt;br /&gt;Josh: sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*pause. was he serious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: that's interesting&lt;br /&gt;Me: well go unbore yourself Josh&lt;br /&gt;Josh: if i go out i'm not coming home til late&lt;br /&gt;Me: do what you want Josh&lt;br /&gt;Josh: bet&lt;br /&gt;Josh: i'm going to Tim's house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*alert, alert. he already knew that shit was going to piss me off to no end, but of course i was tryna play like i didn't care. ugh, especially when i know hoes be ALL up at Tim's house and probably ALL over Josh and shit. but yeah, whatever. so i'm playing like i don't care and shit. capeesh? yuh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so he hits me up again like 30 minutes later. to only later get into it further more &amp;amp; shit. anyway, it was more so of me being an asshole and him not understanding why. i suppose it was a misunderstanding. well, yeah. that's exactly what it was. anyway, we talk again later and he tells me that he was only joking when he said that i bored him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*okay, so maybe i did blow the thing out of proportion, but a nigga didn't put a "jk" "lol" "lmao" or none of that shit after that statement, so i really had no choice but to take him seriously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol, so Josh's cool ass randomly calls my ass out the blue while i'm at the gas station. not to buy a blunt, black &amp;amp; mild or none of that shit, but for once just a regular purchase of a cherry coke zero. so he calls me to ask me if i'm okay and i tell him yeah. mind you, it's fucking pouring rain &amp;amp; my cool ass has on some crocs, so as i'm walking into the gas station i almost bust my ass in front of fiftyleven niggas and shit. i'm screaming all in his ear, while trying to keep my hair from gettin wet &amp;amp; trying to keep from falling. this whole time Josh got jokes and shit, "make sure not to get your weave wet boo." TRIED ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i enter the gas station of whatever, and as i'm on my way in this nigga on his way out carrying a two brown paper bags full of 40 oz. beers/malt liquors. i take a deep breath &amp;amp; prepare myself. i mainly try to stay focused on Josh, cause for some reason i'm thinking that me being on the phone will keep me from being notice. but nah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"damn baby, gimme a kiss."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NIGGA WHAT! i laugh at this nigga in his face as i'm makin my way back to the refrigerator things. Josh ass crunk as hell, "WHAT THAT NIGGA SAY TO YOU?" i'm laughing it off, cause i know how Josh ass can get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Baby is a fool, i swear this nigga wants to beat the whole world up over my ass. so umm, you Atlanta niggas baby said get the fuck back. and if you try me in front of him this summer, i really hate it for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so anyway, i make my purchase and on my way out and ANOTHER coon has something else to add. i swear to yall, niggas in the hood be so thirsty ESPECIALLY eastside decatur niggas. it was then when i notice all eyes is on a bitch, and i'm like the only female in the entire facility. so a bitch kinda nervous. i keep talking to Josh, and dash away to the car &amp;amp; go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so yeah man, Josh and i end up talking that night from like 11 pm to 4 in the morning &lt;3.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;some more shit...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yeah Josh, i'm biting you, but i can do that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i've basically been spending every night talking to Josh since last Monday. even though we have work and shit in the morning, we still stay up to the wee hours of the morning caking and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*speaking of which, he had a big day that week. shouts outs to me &amp;amp; Josh yenno. to all you bitches, get the fuck back. like Monica &amp;amp; Brandy, the boy is MINE! 01072009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like i was saying, we've been staying up laughin and shit, on some real g shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;check it, so one night we were up watching Jackass the Movie. ROFLLLLLLLLLLLL, Josh had me rolling man. i have never laughed that hard at that movie, except for maybe with my Bust It Baby, shout outs to you babygirl. but chea, he went on and on about this old man in the scooter. i lie to you not a bitch almost fell over on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;insider: like hahahaaa [/shawty lo]&lt;br /&gt;-dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a bitch be really on her job man. i'm really a g. soooo these past 7+ days, Josh and i have been discovering alot more about each other and shit. ALOT more about each other -wink, wink- lmao, i'm fucking with yall. but seriously though, a bitch is really looking forward to this summer. like no lie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wanna know why? here goes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;i'm having LOTS of sex with Josh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;we're gettin pregnant&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;and lastly enganged&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;HOLLA FRONT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;and Josh i know you're reading this, so umm why you smiling baby?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*lol, this nigga was at his mom's house talking to me on yahoo with his shirt over his face cause he couldn't stop smiling and he didn't want any one to see. aww, i love you baby. i love you, i love you, i love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the moral of the story is: Josh and i are inseparable.&lt;br /&gt;the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-1378892201456178153?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1378892201456178153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/1378892201456178153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/be-my-baby-moma-shit.html' title='be my baby moma &amp; shit'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5342359999212130492</id><published>2009-01-05T12:53:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:32:29.198-04:00</updated><title type='text'>new years</title><content type='html'>i just want everyone to know, &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FUCK &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BLOGSPOT&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like on some real g shit. i sat up here, and wrote this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;longgggg&lt;/span&gt; ass blog about new years &amp;amp; what happens? my lap top freezes. and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;uhh&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;blogpot&lt;/span&gt; supposed to save my shit? but nah, they didn't. i &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;aint&lt;/span&gt; typing that shit over again. aint nooooo way. if you wanna know what happened on new years read Nina's blog. aint no way i'm typing ALLLL that fucking shit over again. aint nooooo way in fucking hell. i'll EVER be that bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;motherfuck&lt;/span&gt; blogging, forever. the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that shit really made my fucking blood hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5342359999212130492?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5342359999212130492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5342359999212130492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-years.html' title='new years'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5309752141285981959</id><published>2009-01-03T02:07:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T17:13:22.088-05:00</updated><title type='text'>that's not my girl, once or ever</title><content type='html'>mannn, i haven't blogged in so long. so you already know yall, my readers, are in for some good reading &amp;amp; what not. anyway, i suppose i'll chapter this shit off since i'm covering ALOT of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;SLURP &amp;amp; BURP&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;so uhh, me and Telly got this one female friend or what not. she has been complaining about her boyfriend or what have you. yenno, talking about that nigga creepin, sleezin, sleepin around and shit. sooooooo, she wanted us to come with her to ride by his house to see if he has some bitch over there. Telly said she just wanted a ride over there, since she aint have no car, lol. i mean shawty talking all big like "ima kill his ass if a bitch over there", "ima bring my pistol with me, i'll shoot his ass", yenno crazy shit like that. but anywayyyyyy, so me and Telly agree that we'd both go if the other went. so it's the night of or whatever &amp;amp; neither one of us have yet to get a phone call from ol girl so we basically thinking shawty flexing on us. so shit, me and Telly both in the bed &amp;amp; shit watching tv; doing our normal routine before bed. no homo. i get a phone call from my homeboy's phone. mind you, me, him &amp;amp; Telly used to be like the 3 amigos and shit. so i'm like "my niggaaaaa!" and i answer the phone &amp;amp; it's ol girl. =/ whattttttt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-rewind- she has a history of liking him or whatever. like she's been wanting to give him the business since 07 and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she's all like, "Dante is over here Ashlee, you coming over?" i tell her yeah, and inform Telly, who is still on the house phone, that she's coming to the east side and that we're going to shawty's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*this ho complaining and shit, about what she's gonna wear and shit.&lt;br /&gt;Telly: "what ima wear though?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "a thermal with some jeans &amp;amp; uggs, that's what i'm wearing."&lt;br /&gt;Telly: "i dont have a thermal."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "yes you do, the white one you wore to the studio that one time."&lt;br /&gt;Telly: "oh yeahhh"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "yeah ho, i know your whole wardrobe"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so i call my homegirl or whatever and tell her that me &amp;amp; Telly both gonna come through or whatever. or did Telly call and tell her? either way, a phone call was made and we told her we were on the way. Telly gets to my house and all crunk and shit ready to see some action. of course me being me, i wasn't ready yet. i rush to the bathroom to run the flat iron through my hair until i'm hit with the news. "it's raining outside dawg, you might as well not even waste your time." double u-tee-eff! me, rain &amp;amp; my hair do not get along together. but whatever, Telly informs me to pin my hair up &amp;amp; i do it like she's my mom and shit. so i put on my uggs, and we're on the way out running to the car so our hair doesn't get wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Telly: "which way do i go?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: straight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we're on our way, and i don't even realize that this bitch went straight ANDDDD turned left until i notice that we're sitting at a red light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "who told you to turn left?"&lt;br /&gt;Telly: "I DIDN'T, I WENT STRAIGHT AND...oh, i turned left too."&lt;br /&gt;-deadddd&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this bitch goes through the light and halfway whips Carmen [her truck] around to go right back through it, but the light turnes red. LMAO, our asses are fucking blocking the WHOLE street like it's all good. we're cracking up and shit, cause i don't understand for one. but hey, when you're with me &amp;amp; Telly, shit goes down. so anyway, we're listening to Keyshia Cole's new album or whatever on the way there &amp;amp; eating jolly ranchers and shit. straight chillin and jammin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*the track "Where This Love Could End Up" is on and it's jiggin and shit. we're at another stop light or whatever, after exiting the expressway, and this bitch Telly has a fucking dance to this part of the song. this bitch had both hands up in the air with the pointer finger up on both hands, bouncing her shoulders. i was too dead, cause this bitch was too for real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, we pull up to ol girl's house and i call her to open the door and shit. this bitch aint answering. i call my homeboy phone &amp;amp; he's not answering. i'm lookin at the house &amp;amp; i see lights on, so i'm looking at Telly like, "mannnn what the fuck." finally i look up and shawty at the door or whatever, cause we were about to get pissed. wasting gas is NOT our steelo. anyway, we walk up to the house &amp;amp; me and Telly thinking the same thing. "what the fuck this ho got on mayne?" mind you it's december, it's raining outside, but this bitch got on a mini skirt &amp;amp; blouse that's ALLLLLLL the way open with her tits hanging all out. =/ i don't know about you, but i don't get half naked when my homeboy's or homegirl's come over and shit. i'm at the house, shit. a bitch will wear sweats. but i guess that's just me and Telly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah man, we up stairs chillin and shit, kicking and shit. me &amp;amp; Telly aint seen the homie Dante in a minute so we had to dap &amp;amp; hug a nigga up and shit. anyway, we waiting for her to get crunk with her boyfriend drama and shit, but she flexing yet again. so we talking, yadda yadda. me and Telly talking with our inside jokes and shit, clowning. i realize they feel left out. OOPS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*for some strange reason people think me &amp;amp; Telly look alike. i guess we hang out so much we look alike or some shit? -shrugs- maybe it's the short hair cuts &amp;amp; the pitch black hair. usually i hate when people tell me i look like other people, buttttt Telly a bad bitch, so i'll take that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after about 30-45 minutes of lolly-gagging and shit, she calling this nigga. LMAO, he don't even answer the phone, so she calls from Dante phone &amp;amp; he answers. -dead-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Latavia: "where you at?"&lt;br /&gt;him: "who is this?"&lt;br /&gt;Latavia: "who you think it is? who it sound like? YOUR GIRLFRIEND!"&lt;br /&gt;him: "oh..."&lt;br /&gt;Latavia: "you at home?"&lt;br /&gt;him: "yeah"&lt;br /&gt;Latavia: -cuts him off- "well i'm about to come over."&lt;br /&gt;him: "nah i'm at home, but not at home, home"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i dunno about you, but that sounds suspect as hell. i'm in between trying to hold my laugh in and tryna coach this bitch so she don't go off so we can sneak over there &amp;amp; catch his ass. she decided to go upstairs and change her clothes for the occasion--like wtf occasion you had these clothes on for? folks crazy these days. so she goes upstairs, and that's when Dante comes over and sits by me &amp;amp; Telly. oh, he was sittin on the couch with her and shit. me being the bitch i am, i asked him what's up with them, like why they sittin on the love seat sofa and why she all naked and shit. he hangs his head low, "man, she slurped me up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me &amp;amp; Telly: "SHE WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT"&lt;br /&gt;and it dawns on me, that's what they were probably doing when we were calling they asses and they weren't answering the phone. -dead-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;she comes back downstairs &amp;amp; we're acting like everything is everything like we don't know what REALLY went on. she go outside to smoke a cigarette, so i go with her cause i have plans on asking her what happened. so i'm outside with her and shit choppin it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me: "so, what chu and Dante do while me and Telly were on our way."&lt;br /&gt;Lataiva: "nothing."&lt;br /&gt;me: "nothing?"&lt;br /&gt;Latavia: "nah, nothing."&lt;br /&gt;me: "word."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm dying on the inside man, cause i know my nigga wouldn't lie to me mayne. and this wouldn't the the fist time she ever denied anything. so whatever, i just play it off. -fast forward- we going outside gettin ready to load up in Carmen, saying our goodbyes to Dante. so i'm crunk thinking we about to see some action &amp;amp; Telly puts in the new T-Pain cd. THAT'S MY SHIT! "Chopped &amp;amp; Skrewed" comes on &amp;amp; i'm crunk as shit ready for Luda's part. anywayyyy, dude live right up the street &amp;amp; shit, which is good. we ride by. NOTHING. we aint see him, we aint see no bitches, the weed man, no nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;man what the fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me and Telly kinda pissed. her more so me cause she drove all the way from her house [30 min to my house &amp;amp; another 20 from my house to Latavia's house] to see a bunch of nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*shit, good thing gas hella cheap right now. like i was saying, we drop her off &amp;amp; roll out. i'm trying to make the best out of it, gettin crunk man, dancing in the car. i love Carmen, so i gotta show her some love. everytime i get into the front seat, i'm always freaking that shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"YOU DANCE LIKE A STRIPPER!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-blushes- that's all i hear from the driver's side. lmao, i know i be twerking that shit. anyway, last dance of the night, i crank the poole palace. Telly pull up to the crib, we say our talk to you laters &amp;amp; call me when you get homes and she's off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;final thought; how she gonna be mad at her boyfriend for "creepin" and she was just at the house sucking my homeboy up with that slobby mouth? i'm just saying, shit sounds a little off to me. if you creepin, he can't creep? you get what you recieve mayne, real shit. plus i dunno why she lied to me anyway about not serving him up. i thought we was friends and shit. ITS JUST HEAD, dang. let a bitch in on the goods &amp;amp; shit. anyway, shout outs to Dante for being the only truthful nigga for the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;HUMAN SIZE PISS&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so after christmas and shit, i've been killin this Kunf Fu Panda movie. i don't give a damn if it was orginally for Taylor, i watch that joint more than her. that movie fucking goes hard. i've been tryna tell Josh he needs to hop on the panda train, but he doesn't even wanna go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like i was saying...&lt;br /&gt;so i was up late one night on yahoo talking to babylove and i've got KFP on replay on my dvd player, i notice that Prada gets up from his slumber. nigga is out from his bed &amp;amp; blanket in the corner, stretching and shit. so i'm all talking to my boo boo in a baby voice, "hey my baby, are you awake?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*every since Prada moved back in with me from my grandma's house, he's been my baby all over again &amp;amp; shit. that nigga has been missing my lovin too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anywayyyyy, so i notice this nigga just lookin at me or whatever in the middle of my floor. nigga not excited to see me or something? pssh, whatever. so i continue talking to Josh on yahoo &lt;3. so i get up for whatever reason, probably go get a snack or something since Josh &amp;amp; i have been doing some ill 3 and 4 am snackin, and i turn the light on a see my floor glistening. i'm like what the fuck is that. lemme tellllllllll you shawty, it looked like someone dumbed a big QT cup of some clear drink on my floor, like 3 yards of liquid and shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MOTHERFUCKING PRADA TOOK A HUGE PISS ON MY FLOOR!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;like i'm talking a huge ass, big ass grown man piss. like, seriously though. even bounty, the quicker picker upper, couldn't even get all that piss up. a bitch had to use a towel, a mop, and chlorox clean up for that shit. i was too livid. that bitch had my room smelling like straight bleach for hours. thennnnn on top of that, that bitch is all back in his bed like he aint do shit. i tell Josh about it &amp;amp; Josh thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. =/ i'm yellin and cussin Prada's ass the fuck out. "GET THE FUCK OUT MY ROOM BITCH!" i kicked that fucking bitch out my room. his fucking ass is NOT allowed in my shit for a while now. he's back at grandma's til futher notice. i'm holding a grudge. yeah, so what nigga, i'm beefin with my maltese.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5309752141285981959?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5309752141285981959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5309752141285981959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2009/01/thats-not-my-girl-once-or-ever.html' title='that&apos;s not my girl, once or ever'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-112160095283051278</id><published>2008-12-27T04:26:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T04:40:53.639-05:00</updated><title type='text'>bend over bitch, lemme see it</title><content type='html'>AYE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; up and it's well past 4 am. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;df&lt;/span&gt; am i doing up? man my body feels like shit, and i can't seem to fall asleep. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;i've&lt;/span&gt; been listening to the same songs on repeat &amp;amp; i have a feeling that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;i'm&lt;/span&gt; going to start thinking too much...yet again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ugh, i know one thing though. it sucks ass being up alone. i mean, people are on yahoo and shit. but to be totally honest, i don't even feel like talking to them or anyone right now. =/ but i just complained about being alone? i'm trippin mayne. maybe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; stay up for 24 hours or some shit. only 4 1/2 more hours to go. ha, i doubt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;i'd&lt;/span&gt; make it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wonder what's on cartoon network, well adult swim. i suppose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; turn the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; on in a bit when i finishing blogging this incredible stupid blog about a bunch of nothingness. -sigh- but i have nothing else to do. i already tried browsing CS to look for some cute hoes to look at, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;mannnn&lt;/span&gt; i don't even wanna look at no hoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;UGH AND JOSH YOU BETTER BE CAREFUL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i wish i had some pizza, cause my stomach is growling. it's too late to eat dinner &amp;amp; it's too early to eat breakfast. i suppose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;i'll&lt;/span&gt; starve til i see the sun rise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that is all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-112160095283051278?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/112160095283051278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/112160095283051278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2008/12/bend-over-bitch-lemme-see-it.html' title='bend over bitch, lemme see it'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-6075755350217204079</id><published>2008-12-27T01:53:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T15:26:37.304-05:00</updated><title type='text'>tried to tell you i'm hood</title><content type='html'>whats the move shawty. mayne i've been staying up hella late alot lately kickin it with Telly and shit on the phone laughing and making all kinds of jokes. that's my number one nigga mayne, on some real g shit. we've had sooooo many inside jokes and shit in the past two days it's ridiculoussss. i swear we need our own reality show for all the crazy shit that we talk about &amp;amp; for all the shit that happens whenever we get together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;#1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me : "aye, remember when me &amp;amp; Telly went to Columbus?"&lt;br /&gt;me : "...I mean..."&lt;br /&gt;-silence-&lt;br /&gt;him : "yeah? when yall go to Columbus?"&lt;br /&gt;me : [whispers to Telly] "...damn, i fucked up huh?"&lt;br /&gt;Telly : "we at the mall and shit, up at Macy's at Stonecrest Mall."&lt;br /&gt;-me &amp;amp; Telly cracking up-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEAD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY #2&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;folks crazy man lemme tell you something. ROFL, so Telly mom bought her some days of the week drawls for christmas! deaddddd. i thought it was a pretty crunk gift, i'd wear the fuck up out them panties, real talk. lmao, but Telly ass mad as hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hell naw Ashlee, she tried me. she bought me and XL, i wear a MEDIUM!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i died a thousand deaths, no lie. i could hear her mom talking in the background talking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"they're MUDD panties, so i figured that they ran small."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and that's when my ass chimed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"oh hell yeah, i bought some MUDD panties in my size [medium of course] shawty, i tried to put the bitches on and they clamped so tight on my pussy. shit left red marks all up on my skin, i had to cut them bitches off with some scissors"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEATHHHHHHHH! true story man. =[ those panties are the devil in disguise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY #3&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm saying though, so we're on the phone and shit and i don't know why, but we started talking about "the perfect nigga" well, at least the physical aspects at least. this is what we came up with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me : a dread head girl&lt;br /&gt;Telly : some sexy crinkle dreads with a rubber band in his head to hold his dreads back&lt;br /&gt;me : yesss girl, lawdddd&lt;br /&gt;Telly : with a Polo on with some khaki's and some Prada shoes&lt;br /&gt;me : or some Gucci shoes, yenno the red, green and black ones but he gotta have jeans on with the rips in em&lt;br /&gt;Telly : wearing a thermal with the Gucci belt to match...UNBUCKLED though&lt;br /&gt;me : ohhh yes! make him sexy light skinned&lt;br /&gt;Telly : naw&lt;br /&gt;me : you right, you right...sexy caramel with a tattoo on his neck AND his hand&lt;br /&gt;Telly : oh yes girl, i like a tat on the neck. and he gotta have his ears pierced BOTH sides&lt;br /&gt;me : and when he roll his thermal up he's sleeved up on BOTH arms, black &amp;amp; gray only&lt;br /&gt;Telly : maybe some red&lt;br /&gt;me : NO!&lt;br /&gt;Telly : no red?&lt;br /&gt;me : okay, maybe on his neck tattoo&lt;br /&gt;Telly : ooooh, mhm&lt;br /&gt;me : and he gotta have a goatee, i like them shits. oh and he gotta be tall girl, like 6'4 or 6'5&lt;br /&gt;Telly : hell yeah&lt;br /&gt;me : not skinny like a basketball player, his body gotta be on point&lt;br /&gt;Telly : yeah girl&lt;br /&gt;me : he can have a football player body, yenno like a wide receiver or some shit anddd he's 23. that's a good age right?&lt;br /&gt;Telly : yeah, we don't want him too old&lt;br /&gt;me : what about 24 or 25?&lt;br /&gt;Telly : don't make him over 25 girl&lt;br /&gt;me : aight girl, he's either 23 or 24, i don't care&lt;br /&gt;Telly : what car he drive girl?&lt;br /&gt;me : an Avalanche girl, a white one&lt;br /&gt;Telly : oh hell yeah&lt;br /&gt;me : and he's waiting to pick his car up from valet &amp;amp; he's holding a Tiffany's bag&lt;br /&gt;Telly: wait, what the fuck? did you see this nigga or something?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DEADDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY #4&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so Telly talked to one our homeboys right? i swear Telly can be an airhead sometimes, but i'ma let her slide with this one since she's around babies monday-friday. anyway, so this nigga tell her, "i brought the best pull up kit today." you know what this ho said?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"you mean like the diapers?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dhfvogvjrwlgtmergoml! right over her head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;STORY #5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this is just a random, it's nothing recent or anything but this shit is soooo funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pause. -takes a shot of smirnoff-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, like i was saying, so i spent like a three day weekend over at Telly's last summer. yenno, just to get away or whatever from Paulette.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"what is that bottle of liquor doing in your room Ashlee?"&lt;br /&gt;[mind you i was under 21 at the time] "uhh...ion'eem know mom."&lt;br /&gt;"POUR IT OUT!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;shittin me, i'm a alcohol feen, so a bitch like me poured that shit in an empty hawaiian punch bottle &amp;amp; brought it with me to Telly's house. we drank with her brother outside on the curb g. some straight hood g shit. i tried to tell yall i'm hood. anyway, Telly mixed that shit with a lil lemonade made her brother [shout outs to him] &amp;amp; lemme tell you that shit was knockin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but yeah, jane came to visit Telly that night or early that next morning. whichever, cause i don't remember. i just remember waking up and it was still dark out and feeling her get up out the bed. this bitch took the blanket with her, and returned 30 minutes later with the blanket around her sittin at the foot of the bed rockin back and forth. so i'm worried and shit cause she's rocking like she's insane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me : Telly you aight man? -rubs eyes-&lt;br /&gt;Telly ass just rockin.&lt;br /&gt;me : you aight man?&lt;br /&gt;Telly STILL silent.&lt;br /&gt;me : oh aight then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROFL, my fucking ass goes right back to sleep. =[ ily Telly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so last night me &amp;amp; Josh had our first fight. -sigh- it really sucked, but it really wasn't that bad of a fight compared to other couple's fights per se. i dunno, i guess we were both in bad moods. we basically just didn't talk to each other. i told him not to hit me later. -frowns- i suck man. it was really hard not talking to him and being without him last night. especially after i spend SOOOO much time talking to him. it's weird though, cause he didn't chase after me. it's only weird because i'm used to guys always chasing after me when i get mad, but his ass really didn't hit me up til the next morning. i learned my lesson, but i respect that shit. him not chasing me, that is. that's some real nigga shit. -smiles- like a bitch was sayin, i can't be without my baby. i know that for sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;today was cool though, i took Prada shopping today. that's my little man yo. we balled out at mother fucking PetSmart. i got him some clothes, sweaters, booties, a new collar, new leash, some toys &amp;amp; some dog treats. he's gotta have a ballin ass christmas too, shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVXgfLUpDQI/AAAAAAAAAEk/_ZXnw5HJyC8/s1600-h/prada.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284376564009078018" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVXgfLUpDQI/AAAAAAAAAEk/_ZXnw5HJyC8/s320/prada.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVXg10LsfuI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IUwUxPHN3iY/s1600-h/prada2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284376952934530786" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVXg10LsfuI/AAAAAAAAAEs/IUwUxPHN3iY/s320/prada2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* ROFL, Josh can't stand Prada. he told me he's gonna kick him out =[. over my dead body Josh! he's just jealous cause Prada gets to lay up on my boobies and sleep between my legs &amp;amp; in the bed with me at night. &lt;3 i dunno why Josh is so jealous, he knows when he comes to Atlanta &amp;amp; scoops me in the Charger -dead- that he can lay up with me ALLLLL day if he wants to.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-6075755350217204079?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6075755350217204079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/6075755350217204079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2008/12/tried-to-tell-you-im-hood.html' title='tried to tell you i&apos;m hood'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVXgfLUpDQI/AAAAAAAAAEk/_ZXnw5HJyC8/s72-c/prada.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-4108809851418280580</id><published>2008-12-25T03:32:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T23:34:54.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mimi &lt;3</title><content type='html'>iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi. iloveyoumimi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm going to finish your blog tomorrow bew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12262008 : i promised i would do this blog so here i am. -smiles- me &amp;amp; Mimi are totally soul mates. we always run to each other with our men problems or just to gossip about our men. so, if you and i kick it like that &amp;amp; shit -cough- thatmeansyoujosh -cough- thennnnnn chances are Mimi knows about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i super love Mimi alot yo. plus she thinks i'm really wise. -blushes- i thought i sucked at this advice thing, but according to her, i'm pretty good at it. it's a good feeling to always help a friend in need.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ROFL, this bitch never remembers any of the shit we do together. i swear. like today i was talking to her and i was like, "remember when we watched rock of love together?" she straight up gave a bitch the straight face &amp;amp; was like, "you got me confused with your other bitches" deathhhh. i had to tell her what that specific episode was about for her to remember. it really breaks my heart Mimi!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=[ i think i love you more than you love me. sikeeee! you better love me guhl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh anddd, we're starting over or what not with our life with new and improved hot boysssss and have came to an agreement that we were gonna keep them if they don't do anything stupid. hahaha, no seriously though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Josh you can go ahead and get me a ring boo, we're in this for the LONG run.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;te amo mucho Dimitri.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-4108809851418280580?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4108809851418280580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/4108809851418280580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2008/12/mimi-3.html' title='Mimi &lt;3'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3878555844480763861.post-5285035374249676440</id><published>2008-12-25T03:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T03:39:51.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>you lose</title><content type='html'>me &amp;amp; Josh's yahoo conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:20:20 AM): WTF @ these hoes tryna holla at a gay nigga&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:21:00 AM): nigga where you at?&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:21:09 AM): at home, i'm lookin on cs&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:21:23 AM): oh lmao&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:21:35 AM): lmao @ you tryna get mad&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:22:01 AM): "nigga where you at?" "take your fucking ass in the house"&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:22:04 AM): cause these creepin hrs&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:22:15 AM): lmao @ that, i aint creepin&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:22:21 AM): if i'm up, i'm up talkin to you&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:22:26 AM): you betta be home, shit&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:22:34 AM): here you goooo&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:22:59 AM): im saying&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:23:09 AM): lol&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:23:14 AM): im bloggin this&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:24:01 AM): its 230&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:24:04 AM): its 230&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:24:21 AM): whats open this late&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:24:31 AM): legs&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:24:35 AM): waffle house&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:24:38 AM): wal mart&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:24:42 AM): LMFAOOO @ legs&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:24:51 AM): so nah, you betta be home&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:25:31 AM): nigga dnt nobody be in walmart at 230&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:26:05 AM): xcept for truckers, whores, fiends&lt;br /&gt;cloud.kapri (12/25/2008 2:26:16 AM): we goin at 2:30 am&lt;br /&gt;josh (12/25/2008 2:26:26 AM): case closed, josh wins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;anyway, i decided to prove him wrong or whatever. yenno, basically just to say "YOU LOSE JOSH" &lt;3 ily anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVNGwr57Q6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/swd0Zub3Z4I/s1600-h/forjosh.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVNGwr57Q6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/swd0Zub3Z4I/s320/forjosh.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283644590069072802" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and yeah i know i look busted, but it's past 3 am. screw you. &lt;^&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3878555844480763861-5285035374249676440?l=killaaaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5285035374249676440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3878555844480763861/posts/default/5285035374249676440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://killaaaa.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-lose.html' title='you lose'/><author><name>stαcy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15831257834476765049</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/S0Sa30Vus9I/AAAAAAAAAqQ/gFqqJMGuMZs/S220/Photo410-.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_bNrMCxHn4RA/SVNGwr57Q6I/AAAAAAAAAEc/swd0Zub3Z4I/s72-c/forjosh.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
