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2003-10-31 - 10:41 a.m.

I got that fucker, Johnson, real good last night. His girlfriend is my ex-girlfriend and she comes over to my house sometimes when Johnson goes dove huntin'. We play Splinter Cell and have sex.

Anyway, I went into his room when he was at work (his mom let me in)and went to his closet and took all of his stuffed animals. He has like 20 of 'em. Some are Beanie Babies and some are-shit all of 'em are Beanie Babies, except his Animal muppet: I like that one, so I put it back.

I went to the corn field where Johnson hunts, over around these bushes and shit and set up a trap:

There's a place where if you trip this wire, all the shit flies up.

My friend, Flemmons (he's my spy), went with Johnson and his buddies the other day to the soon famous field.

When they got there, Johnson tripped the wire and the trot line shot up like a catfish puppet show!

Everyone started a shootin' until Johnson yells "Stop! Those are my Beanies!"

But it was too late.

He started cryin' and when Flemmons told me I started cryin' because I felt real bad.

"But check this shit out, dude!" Flemmons said, "After he finished cryin' this Werecat comes a runnin' out the woods and pies him."

"Pies him?" I said, all red-eyed from crying.

"The friggin' Werecat has a chocolate creme pie and smashes it in Johnson's face and says, 'Asshole', and then runs back into the woods!"

"Who was the Werecat?" I'm not crying anymore.

"That's the best part. It was Tanny, your ex-girlfriend!"

I'm not ever, EVER, going to Tanny's house to play Splinter Cell EVER again.



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