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I can only be myself im sorry if that's hell for you .

# Posté le mardi 03 juin 2008 19:09

Modifié le dimanche 08 juin 2008 20:20

Label's Are Not Fair. Period. Even If You Learn To Live With A Stereotype. You Still Get Pulled Down.

Label’s Are Not Fair. Period. Even If You Learn To Live With A Stereotype. You Still Get Pulled Down.
I'm blonde so I must be dumb.

I'm skinny, so I must be bulemic /anorexic.

I'm emo, so I must cut my wrists.

I follow what others do therefore I'm a follower.

I'm black, so I must be on welfare.

I'm Hispanic, so I must be dirty.

I'm Asian, so I must love math.
I'm Jewish, so I must be good with money.

I'm gay, so I must have AIDS.

I'm a lesbian, so I must live in San Francisco.

I'm Arab, so I must be a terrorist.

I'm a single mom, so I must be a slut.

I'm old, so I probably can't drive.

I'm religious, so I must shove my beliefs down your throat.
I'm republican, so I must not care about poor people.

I'm democrat, so I must not believe in being responsible.

I'm from the south, so I must be white trash.

I take anti-deppressants, so I must be crazy.

I'm a guy, so I only want to get into your pants.

I'm a girl, so I must think irrationally.

I'm Irish, so I must have a bad drinking problem.
I'm Indian, so I must own a 7-11.

I'm Native American, so I must dance around a fire screaming like a savage, or be a part of a gaming casino.

I dont live with my child, so I must be a dead beat dad.

I don't have sex alot, so I must be a prude.

I'm a prep, so I must eat and breathe Abercrombie and Fitch.

I'm a teenager, so I must drink and do drugs.

I'm a cheerleader, so I must be a whore.
I'm a punk, so I must do drugs.

I'm young, so I must be naive.

I'm rich, so I must be a snob, conceited.

I wear black, so I must be a Goth.

I smell, so I must be a hobo.

Im a black male, so I must be a thief.

I roll with alot of dudes, so I must be easy.


Bottom Line Is That Sterotypes Are Wrong. Put This On Your Site If You Feel The Same. Change The Top To Fit What People Label You. People Need To Kno That Your Not "Emo", "Prep", "Jock" Or Whatever. People Need To Know That You Are YOU!

# Posté le dimanche 08 juin 2008 20:13

Modifié le dimanche 08 juin 2008 20:31

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Little Johnny was 7 years old and like other boys his age rather curious. He had been hearing quite a bit about 'courting' from the older boys, and he wondered what it was and how it was done. One day he took his question to his mother, who became rather flustered. Instead of explaining things to Johnny, she told him to hide behind the curtains one night and watch his older sister and her boyfriend. This he did.

The following morning, Johnny described EVERYTHING to his mother. "Sis and her boyfriend sat and talked for a while, then he started kissing and hugging herI figured 'Sis must be getting sick because her face started looking funny. He must have thought so too, because he put his hand inside her blouse to feel her heart, just the way the doctor would. Except he's not as smart as the doctor because he seemed to have trouble finding her heart. I guess he was getting sick too, because pretty soon both of them started panting and getting all out of breath. His other hand must have been cold because he put it under her skirt. About this time 'Sis got worse and began to moan and sigh and squirm around and slide down toward the end of the couch. This was when her fever started. I knew it was a fever, because Sis told him she felt really hot. Finally, I found out what was making them so sick -- a big eel had gotten inside his pants somehow. It just jumped out of his pants and stood there, about 10 inches long, honest, anyway he grabbed it in one hand to keep it from getting away. When Sis saw it, she got really scared -- her eyes got big, and her mouth fell open, and she started calling out to God and stuff like that. She said it was the biggest one she's ever seen; I should tell her about the ones down at the lake by our house! Anyway, Sis got brave and tried to kill the eel by biting its head off. All of a sudden she grabbed it with both hands and held it tight while he took a muzzle out of his pocket and slipped it over the eel's head to keep it from biting again. Sis lay back and spread her legs so she could get a scissor-lock on it and he helped by lying on top of the eel. The eel put up a hell of a fight. Sis started groaning and squealing and her boyfriend almost upset the couch. I guess they wanted to kill the eel by squashing it between them. Her boyfriend got up, and sure enough, they killed the eel. I knew because it just hung there, limp, and some of its insides were hanging out. Sis and her boyfriend were a little tired from the battle, but they went back to courting anyway.

He started hugging and kissing her again. By golly, the eel wasn't dead! It jumped straight up and started to fight again. I guess eels are like cats -- they have nine lives or something. This time, Sis jumped up and tried to kill it by sitting on it. After about a 35 minute struggle, they finally killed the eel. I knew it was dead, because I saw Sis's boyfriend peel its skin off and flush it down the toilet.

# Posté le dimanche 08 juin 2008 20:43

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You don't need to be thin
to be beautiful
You don't need to be good looking
to be pretty

# Posté le dimanche 08 juin 2008 20:47

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Laugh when nothing's funny,
Dance when there's no music,
Sing like you've never sung before,
Love till it hurts,
Cry when you're sad,
Smile when you're happy,
And always live each day like its your Last.

# Posté le dimanche 08 juin 2008 20:50