Search Results For: chain letters
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so fucking annoying when people open your letters and packages for you like ITS PERSONAL god damn
MAKE YOURSELF CLEAR! I can’t read you because you’re skewed, screwed, fuckedupfonted, and all your letters and number look completely retarded!
while he is away, I get letters about how many of the guys there are being cheated on by their gf. i woldn’t do that ever. what is wrong with these women?? why the hell are they cheating on their bf’s?? the all aught to go to hell. support your soldier or get out of his life. fucken bitches….
She was the one person I could go to when I need it. She made me laugh and I enjoyed life. We had lots of adventures, obstacles but we got through them. Then a man came into her life that I warned her about and he fucked her up. I mean got her into popping pills and drinking everyday then lied to her and told her I said a whole bunch of mean things about her when I never would dare.. she meant the world to me and I keep trying to get her to talk to me I’ve wrote letters I’ve called I’ve went to
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Some guy calls (as we are walking out the door) for his kid’s prescription, he got the front store person, since it’s 5 minutes after our closing time. Tell the front store manager it’s something that’ll mess up his kids system if the kid doesn’t have it……it’s for his kid’s acne…not a freaking lifesaving med.
So guy wants us to stick around so he can come get it…..heck no.
WE
ARE
CLOSED!
Also, come to find out he’s in another CITY right now, 2 hours away! HECK FREAKIN NO!
How many of our chain
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Dear Society,
Why the bloody hell are people always sticking their noses into other people’s shit?? I’ve been unemployed for a while and guess what happens? My parents have forced me to go to 4 fucking weddings (of their acquaintances if I might add) this month where every dumb fucking person has to fucking know what I’m planning to do! Let it be known that I just turned 22 and everyone wants to know when the hell I’m getting married. And worst of all, I hate crowds (because they give me
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27 years have just passed me by thinking I had my share of love until I first laid my eyes on you. I have always thought that it is stupid not to actually say how you feel; it is the other person’s right to know that you have feelings for him/her, and you have the right to speak up, until I met you. Do you know how it feels when your heart starts ridiculing every emotion you ever had because this emotion is like nothing else? I started defining the word beauty by you, every beautiful tune that
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We moved into our new apartment just 5 days ago, and already the neighbor drama begins. All 3 of us are smokers (yes, we know it’s bad for you), and we don’t smoke inside. Our neighbors are bitching to the management about our smoking outside in the “common area.” I’m not walking half a mile away just to light up. The griping neighbors fail to recognize that their kids’ toys completely consume the ENTIRE outdoor storage area so we can’t store our grill, but we just let it go. They’ve pounded on
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I’m sorry, I ever dated you. I wasn’t ready nor was I even attracted to you. At the time, I wanted a friend who listened, but who I could also have fun with and you fit the bill. You blame yourself, and for awhile I blamed you too. You were clingy. You were a druggie. You would tell me things you shouldn’t do. You asked me out again. But I see now, I was at fault too. You wanted a year long relationship, I wanted a 3 month or less relationship. You wanted sex. I wanted you to not even touch me.
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I’ve been working my fucking ass off since May to try and put a dent in my debts and more shit just keeps cropping up that is beyond my control. Student loans, VISA debt, college re-application fees, tuition deposits, emergency dental surgery, etc etc etc…
I’m getting shit hours because I work at an ice cream chain and it’s February.. It’s -45 here on a good day, I get out and walk my ass too and from work everyday. I spend my days off cleaning and going to appointments, which is more money
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I hate my life. I hate my life so severely that I’ve long since stopped openly bitching about it. At least regularly. I’m very unsatisfied with how my life has turned out. My love life has been nothing more than a consecutive chain of failures, which would drive readers to a fiery suicide if I went into more details about it. My career is worse. Much worse.
I apparently didn’t study hard enough on my two degrees, despite having my already tiny ego stroked by my academic advisors. So now I
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here’s the thing: i still like you, anyway. it’s not my fault, right? if only you didn’t make me feel like i was so much more than i think i am, then maybe i could’ve blocked myself from these feelings. maybe i couldn’t have met your hazel eyes when they held mine as you searched through the room. as vast as our room might be, your gaze landed on me and i couldn’t help but realize that it was because i was already looking at you.
maybe i could’ve regulated my heart from beating erratically
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On the MADD website it says everyday about 300,000 Americans drink and drive, only about 4,000 are arrested. That’s about 1.33%. The average person will drink and drive 80 times before their first arrest. The total number of reported accidents in 2013 was 5,687,000 according to the National Highway Traffic Saftey Administration. Only 10,076 people were killed in drunk driving accidents (about .18%) and 290,000 were injured (5.1%). How exactly MADD came up with the number for “not caught drunk
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First off, when I am talking about sisters, I do not mean the biological ones. I mean the ones that you make a lifelong commitment to, who are supposed to be there for you no matter what, and are supposed to know you so well. The sisters I am referring to are sorority sister. Now, don’t get me wrong, they have their moments, but lately, it seems like I am all by myself with no one to turn to an no one to talk to.
My big decided to leave the sorority, and it tore me apart. I lost my best
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Your a freak. You got that? A freak. Your like a stalker, except you haven’t quite gotten to the point of constantly observing my house. Or have you? Whatever, I don’t care. Just get the hell away from me and learn to stay away. I don’t like you like you think I do. I’ve told you that before. I don’t care what your delusional little mind thinks, I. Don’t. Like. You. I don’t like when you press up against me as we’re leaving class and walking in the halls. Yes, I know they’re crowded, but
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