He said "I dont think you'd get on with the crew, theyre a bit uh... weird"
I said 'Oh well, so's the 17th's lot'
He grunted and went for a fag.
He came back from his inhaling of weed and said:
" I mean though, theyre just not right in the head,Im getting a bit scared."
I said ' So your moving with your antie and uncle in belair~, I whistled for a cab and when it came near, the license plate was 'FRESH' and there were dice in the mir-'
Thats why Im not doing mural painting anymore.
Devious Comments
Is this a true story or a poem?
--
"Hey, that's not fair! There's a difference between lard and nerds. Lard doesn't have hands so it can't hold the controller." - Me to dad
We're gonna have to reverse the polarity.
Poems can be fictional and wayyyy more interesting.
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