So I’m posting about it here.
Look at this fucking bag. LOOK AT IT. It’s all red & shit. AND LOOK AT THOSE SEXY ASS STRAPS. It has a compartment to hold my awesome MacBook & all kinds of accessories I need when I DJ. I k now you want this motherfucker just like I do.
Find out more about it at or you can try to win it by visiting Any Lucky Day.
So I’m posting about it here.
Look at this fucking bag. LOOK AT IT. It’s all red & shit. AND LOOK AT THOSE SEXY ASS STRAPS. It has a compartment to hold my awesome MacBook & all kinds of accessories I need when I DJ. I k now you want this motherfucker just like I do.
Find out more about it at or you can try to win it by visiting Any Lucky Day.
If women are resorting to suckin’ dick and stabbin’ mofos just for gas, something ain’t right. Taken from kpho.com.
An east Valley woman who bartered sex for gas money ended up stabbing her victim while partially severing her finger, Maricopa County sheriff’s deputies said.
Kelli Still, 43, was arrested by deputies, transported to the Fourth Avenue Jail and charged with aggravated assault with a weapon.
With gas prices soaring, Still bartered oral sex for gas money with a male acquaintance over the weekend, deputies said.
The encounter did not result in a contractual sex act but an aggravated assault when the woman pulled out a pair of scissors and began attacking the man, according to deputies.
Michael Hamilton suffered numerous stab wounds to the face and chest, sheriff’s investigators said.Still also suffered wounds from the scissor attack, deputies said.
When authorities arrived at the residence in Mesa, both people were covered in blood.Still told deputies the fight was a result of a sex-for-gas contract gone bad.
Arizona’s statewide average for a gallon of regular unleaded gasoline is currently sitting at $3.191 per gallon, 58 cents higher than a year ago, according to AAA Arizona.
Last week, gas prices across the state hit record highs for four consecutive days.
I swear I don’t make this shit up people. LMFAO!! Sorry for not updating. I am still without teh internets for a few days.
I couldn’t make this shit up, even if I tried. Taken from kpho.com
MESA, Ariz. — A teenager who confessed to killing his father last month told police he hated his dad for taking away his Internet access, according to a police report released Wednesday.
Hughstan Schlicker, 15, called 911 on Feb. 6 and told the dispatcher he had just shot his father in the head with a 12-gauge shotgun.
“I hate my dad, couldn’t take it anymore,” he said, according to the report.
Schlicker told police his father had taken away his Internet access after seeing suicide threats the teen had posted on social networking Web site MySpace.com.
Schlicker had posted the threats in January; friends in Florida had seen the postings, talked him out of killing himself and called Mesa police. Police said they told Schlicker’s mother about the threats; she allegedly told them she wasn’t worried and promised to lock up any guns in the house.
Schlicker said he often spent entire days on MySpace and couldn’t cope when his father cut off his access to the site.
“It felt like I was stabbed with a knife and it went straight through and … no matter how hard I pulled, I couldn’t pull out the knife,” Schlicker said, according to an interview transcript in the police report.
Schlicker said that on the day of the shooting, he called in sick from school by faking his father’s voice.At one point during the day, Schlicker said, he went to the garage to get a drink and found his father’s shotgun and ammunition lying on the counter.
Schlicker said he took the gun to his room, intending to kill himself in front of his father when his father arrived home. He later changed his mind and decided to kill his father first, then kill himself, according to the police report.
Schlicker told police he had decided that if his father came home after 4 p.m., he wouldn’t carry out his plan; when his father came home early, at 2 p.m., Schlicker was waiting on the stairs with the shotgun, according to the report.
Schlicker said he waited till his father was in the kitchen, then walked up behind him and shot him in the back of the head.After the shooting, Schlicker said, he called a female friend and told her he had killed his father and was about to kill himself. Schlicker said she talked him out of it and convinced him to call police instead.
Schlicker expressed remorse during a police interview, telling detectives “I wish I didn’t do this,” and “I miss Dad.
“During the interview, Schlicker portrayed his father as a loving man who only wanted the best for him and who used to take him on hunting trips.
“Me and my dad would go squirrel hunting,” Schlicker said, according to the interview transcript. “Apparently he trusts me with a rifle.”Schlicker was charged with first-degree murder and will be tried as an adult.
I’m sorry, but 
I’m is Amanda, in case you don’t read the “about” section. Ant and I have been ebony-n-ivory counterparts for years. I tells him bout teh white wimmenz, and he gives me weekend hood passes. It’s like a pass to Six-Flags, but with more crack heads.
Anywho, with that being said, on with teh pedo-tastic fun!
***
Houston summers are sweltering. They’re hot, and muggy, and horribly miserable. They are the perfect excuse for seventeen year old girls to dress scantily and enjoy the attention it brings. I was one of those girls.
My at-the-time BFF Tamra and I were together, of course, and in retrospect, probably looking for some trouble to get into. We were driving down the road when I spotted the car (a tan Impala. Not the dreamiest of vehicles for a high school girl, but hell, he was cute!) of a guy I had been dating, Kerry.
Ah, Kerry. The firefighter. I was working at Ritz camera, my after school and weekend job at the time. It was about 6 o’clock and we were closing for the night, and in walks Kerry. He wasn’t as tall as I usually like, only about 5′7″… but then he spoke. He had a beautifully tanned complexion, a bronzed cocoa color that almost dripped sunlight and the essence of carefree when he moved, with brightly piercing blue eyes. They went straight to my soft spot, because they were each flanked by laugh lines that got deeper each time he shot an easy grin. He had an amazing smile, straight and seemingly impossibly white, surrounding by all that contrasting tan. He had a shallow cleft in his chin, that coupled with the deep dimple that flashed only on his left side and ever-present 5 o’clock shadow struck me as surprisingly impish.
His first words to me were, “Well you’re damn near as cute as I am, aren’t you?” I called him a jerk and told him to get out of my store.
His friend worked at the Darque Tan next door, and since he was waiting for his friend’s end-of-shift, he had nothing to do but irritate me. He told me he would be visiting Ground Zero to pay his tributes to his fallen brethren, and wanted a camera to capture the memories. I told him I was surprised his lovely blue eyes weren’t brown, he was so full of it. His mouth curled into that grin again, and damn me, I was hooked. I told him he may indeed be cute, but he was still full of a steaming heaping pile of bullshit, and I wanted him to be well aware I knew. He said he knew that too, just like he knew I wanted to have dinner with him.
I told him I wanted to have dinner with him like I wanted a trip to the free clinic for all the wrong reasons. He laughed and asked why I refused, and when I tactfully informed him he had the manners of a feral animal, he looked very confused. He thought about it for a second, and grabbed my hand. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “In all seriousness, I think you’re adorable, and I’d really enjoy the pleasure of your company if you should so see fit, whenever you’d like.”
Oh man. He. Was. Good.
We went out to dinner, my favorite Chinese place, and then to a movie. We saw The Notebook on our first date. Classy, right? He told me it was actually tolerable, and kissed me in the parking lot.
Fast forward a few dates. Kerry tells me we should be exclusive to one another. I laugh at him and tell him to piss off. (I never said I was a CARING person when I was 17.)
The following day, I pick up Tamra.
Humidity and heat. Palpable waves of it seeping up like billowing steam from the asphalt. I could swear that in this moment, I have SEEN that asphalt has a liquid state, and it exists in front of me. It sucks the energy right out of you, a life-force consuming entity that feeds on itself and your misery.
After buying a new phone I really didn’t have the money for ($350 for a stupid cell phone. Oh yeah.) we decide to drive around and bask in the ever present luxury that is my blissfully cold A/C. That’s when we see Kerry’s tan Impala. He spots us too, and my phone rings. He asks me to pull over in the gas station about a quarter of a mile ahead of us. So, I do. I coasted my car toward a slot, when Kerry maneuvered his car directly behind me, so that it was almost impossible for me to back up, instead of just parking next to me. As I was talking to Tamra on the passenger side, I noticed what he was doing. I rabbited.
Normally, I really hate confined spaces. So this nut job blocking my car in while telling me we need to “talk” really did it for me. It was on.
I slid across the hood of the car like Bo Duke, dove behind the wheel, and gunned my Honda over a curb for all it was worth.
AND… THEY’RE… OFF!!!!
Through a peal of squealing tires and what I’m sure had to be accompanying smoke, I took off. I high-tailed it through a right-on-red and onto the feeder road of I-10’s on ramp. I’m bobbing and weaving like Muhammed Ali through traffic, and this crazy motherfucker is keeping up with me. Tamra is shrieking like a god damned banshee, and all of the sudden, my new phone starts ringing. It scared the ever-lovin shit out of me, so I squeal and drop it onto my console only to gasp at the display… “Kerry”.
Oh. Hell.
I’m maneuvering at high speeds, so Tamra answers the phone for me. She gulps and flips it open, and gives a mild, “Hello?”.
I didn’t have to ask what he said. I heard the yelling. All sorts of profanities that offended my delicate female sensibilities (teehee!) and many “PULL OVER AMANDA!!!!”’s. Yes, Brain Warrior. You’re stalking me, following me at high rates of speed, and cursing at me. Why in God’s name WOULDN’T I stop? Perhaps we can have tea, maybe some scones, catch up and all. What is he, new?
It is the only time in my life I have ever PRAYED to get pulled over. I snatch the phone from Tamra, slam the stupid thing shut, and toss it into my cup holder. I am now on the on ramp of I-10 and exceeding speeds of 90 MPH. Where the HELL are the police I’m always slowing down for? We stop at the light of the overpass, and I am the first car in line for the left hand turn. He is directly behind me, yelling out of his window “YOU HAVE TO STOP SOME TIME, AMANDA!!!!!!!!!!!”, I’m praying to any and all gods I can think of, and Tamra is still banshee shrieking, only this time she throws in a few random “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!”s. The light turns green and he’s on my tail. At the last possible second, I veer to the right, coming ridiculously close to the car in front of me, and make it into the going straight line. Captain ScrewLoose is forced to turn left.
WHEW! Jesus God. My phone is still ringing nonstop, but it would seem that the immediate threat is passed. I slow down to be within the range of the speed limits, and after a few minutes, my pulse comes with me. I had yet to extract my belly from down around my knees though, and my heart was still in my throat. Tamra is telling me about how this batshit nuts motherfucker and I probably don’t need to see each other again, and I am agreeing with her when we stop at a red light on a back road on the way to her house.
I’ve got my eyes shut tight and am trying to take cleansing breaths, when Tamra again squeals like there’s a contest, and this heifer is goin’ for the gold. I jump and clear the six inch mark, easy, and look over to see why she’s yelling. HE WAS IN THE LANE NEXT TO US.
He rolls down his window and yells “YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS THE BACK ROADS. YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GET AWAY.”
Again… I did the only logical thing. I hauled BALLS.
We ducked and dived into side streets and when I had a good lead on him rounding a corner, I made a hard left a clip in front of oncoming traffic into what I thought was a small subdivision. “Great… he’ll never find us in here. We’ll just hang out till we’re sure he’s gone.”
That would have been a fine plan. Except for this “subdivision” turned out to be a DEAD END TRAILER PARK.
We shimmy the Honda into a tight fitting spot next to an El Camino on cinder blocks (I swear, I can’t make this shit up) and 90 something Geo. We close our eyes and pray he’s gone.
After hiding miserably for about half an hour and being propositioned for an illicit substance in saran wrap, and what may have been a toothless hooker (I’m guessing on the toothless part - I wasn’t brave enough to go in for a confirmation inspection) we decide it’s safe.
I finally drop Tamra off at home, and thank God I never let Kerry pick me up, so he doesn’t know where I live.
To be on the safe side though, I went to someone’s house I didn’t really care for. If Nutso McWhackjob was a-comin, I wasn’t leading the kooky bastard back to my lair.
He did leave notes on my car at work a few times after that, and one time I did run away from him as I was leaving, but we never really spoke after that.
Was a shame too. Firemen are damn sexy.
(Kerry was 27 and I was 17. In retrospect, I realize that nothing good can come of something like that, and he had to be a little batty. But when I was 17, it was, lak, omGz, teh SupEr kEwLesTTTT! … I still shudder at my logic.)
Not only is Asia ahead of us when it comes to technology, it looks like they’ve mastered the bootlegging industry as well. I cannot take credit of compiling this list. These images come from various members of OT, so I thought I’d share it with the masses. Warning, mad lulz follows:
I’m gonna have to tell the crackheads that come by my barbershop on Saturday mornings that they need to step their game up if they wanna compete with my Asian homies.
I’m beginning to come to grips with the fact that I’ll never be some girl’s main dude. I’ve been plagued with the Guy-On-The-Side syndrome for some time now. It definitely has its perks, but on the flipside, it has its downs as well. I guess this kind of goes along with my “All Women Are Whores” rant I spoke on a few days ago.
Once again, I went out this past weekend and was attacked by a female who turned out to be married. Now, I’m not in the business of breaking up happy homes… but dammit, if a girl is coming at me with such force, then the home isn’t exactly Disneyland, now is it? Things that make you go hmm… Now that I think back, this terrible pattern has been with me since high school. I’ve never sat down and tried to analyze this pattern until now. I don’t know what it is about me, but females with no strings aren’t really checking for me. It’s always the ones with the husband and 7 & a half kids that love chasing me around and getting me into all sorts of wacky adventures.
Maybe it’s because I don’t come off as the “Yo baby, let me holla at you” type. That has never been my steez. In fact, lames that do that kinda of shit actually perplex me; I can’t see how that type of game would work on anyone with half a brain. But hey, that’s just me. I’m just a cool laid back person that gets along with everyone. I guess women in situations are actually attracted to my ‘friendly’ persona. I’m sure they think, “Ooh, I finally have a platonic male-friend that I can go shoe shopping with!” The next thing I know, they are throwing themselves at me. I usually try to distance myself from such predicaments, but they seem to follow me around no matter what I do. Most of the time, I’m thrown into these situations without even giving a thought to the repercussions, then about that time, it’s too late.
Karma is definitely a bitch, and I’m scared to death that it’s going to come back to haunt me. But it’s not like I aim to be caught up. I’m just a squirrel in this crazy world trying to get a nut– no pun intended. Ok, maybe a little. One of the most major relationships in my life was all based on a lie. She was engaged the whole time we were together without my knowledge at all. Damn you women are slick! (And yes, I know you are reading this too. Lol funny how things work out, eh?) And what’s sad is that this pattern shows no sign of stopping. Maybe my newly formed “Black Girl in ‘08″ campaign will change this terrible ailment. Only time will tell.
So wrong, but yet so lultastic. *Paging Pedobear*
Last week sometime, in light of some information that I received about some chickenhead, I made a myspace bulletin entitled “All women are whores.” All the subject body stated was “Truestory. Lol” So a few nights later, some out-of-town girls that I met only once before all piled into my car to go out. One of the girls, (who I actually thought was pretty cute) asked me about that particular bulletin and notified me rather BLUNTLY that I was full of shit. She assertively made sure that I understood that the 3 girls that were in my car at that present moment damn sure weren’t any whores. A few hours & lots of drinks later, this same girl was literally trying to rape me in the Chase Bank parking lot.
Sweetheart, I know that you are reading this because you told me that you were an astryx.net lurker. I just wanna say that you aren’t a whore mama… but… yeah… that night’s events don’t help your case whatsoever.
I know the “all women are whores” line sounds like a blunt, demeaning statement; however I don’t see it that way. I think what I’m trying to get at is the fact that most women are no different than most men. They have the same sort of sex drive/promiscuity problem as their male counterparts. We are taught by society to think women are holy pure saints for the most part… and dog-ass men must have ruined the ones that aren’t sweet damsels anymore.
Bullshit.
I can give you COUNTLESS tales of dog-women I’ve experienced or witnessed just this month alone; and these dealing with “respectable” women. I’ve been the ‘guy on the side’ many of times. Females that are so-in-love with their men still find a way to sneak off and try to contact me. A few years back I had something with this girl who was engaged & living with her fiance. In fact, I remember once she snuck off to be with me and invited me to his birthday party the next day. WTF? They’re happily married now with two children, and to this day I still get random myspace messages or texts from her.
That’s pretty much just one situation of MANY that I’ve been through. Kind of makes it damn near impossible to really trust anyone in my age bracket. Don’t deny it, all of you women have a few skeletons in your closets– some just have full graveyards. (Thanks Krystal). Right now some of my friends are being swindled by some girl who claims she’s a virgin– but I’ve seen videos & pictures on some homies’ cellphones that say just the opposite. I know a guy who’s fucking his girlfriend’s 2 closets friends… sometimes at the same time. Crazy shit. The list just goes on and on.
So in summation, I believe we need to kick the ‘all women are good’ fallacy to the curb and lets start being honest with ourselves. Women are no different than men when it comes to raw sexual hunger. They are involved in some the same sneaky schemes and get the same thrills. The ONLY difference is women are much more secretive, smarter, and selective. With that, I actually applaud females. But other than that, whoredom is the same for both male AND female species.
This is an incomplete entry, because I’m actually just thinking out loud right now. I really didn’t structure this at all. But yeah, feedback is definitely encouraged. Go!
