[!@#$%!]

Originally Posted by pbradley

 

fucking spectacular

[ni'k]

[Insert Mystery Science Theater 3000 Castle-era theme here]

[SOL Bridge. Crow and Tom are off to the right, where a TV set and Super
Nintendo have been placed. Crow holds a controller in his hand, while Tom
watches the screen intently. Various electronic noises emanate from the TV.
Mike Nelson enters from the left.]

MIKE: Oh, hi everyone! Mike Nelson here on the Satellite of Love. It
seems the bots have brought my old Super Nintendo out and are
playing a game of some sort, but I'm not sure what they're playing.
It seems to be some little kid running around a farm--hey guys, what
is this?

CROW: Hey Mike. I got this game off Ebay for nine bucks. It's called
"Harvest Moon". It's a farming sim!

MIKE: I didn't know you were interested in farming, Crow. So what do you
do? Do you manage labor? Monitor global weather conditions and
shipping routes? Carefully plan fertilization and pesticide
schedules? Invest in livestock and cattle futures?

TOM: Well, no... basically all Crow does is move this little guy around
picking up plants and putting them in a basket. And there's a lot
of them to get to before the day ends, so he can't slack off. Plus
he has to milk his cows and feed his chickens, and make sure they
are all happy. Then he has to go to bed, and wake up and do all
that stuff over again the next day. He also has to go into town
sometimes to attend festivals and buy seed and livestock.

MIKE: That seems like a rather repetitive chore. Why would you want to
play a game based on something you'd hate to do in real life?

CROW: Oh, like all of your games are so much less repetitive. Like your
RPGs where all you do is go around and beating up the same zombies
and multi-colored slimes over and over again. And Mario--if you've
seen one platform block, you've seen them all!

MIKE: But the point of those games is exploration and discovery--solving
puzzles, uncovering new parts of a story. All you're doing is
picking things up and putting them down again! Can't you even
buy a tractor or hire help?

TOM: Mike, you're missing the point. The point to this game is not to
fight enemies or even to achieve wealth; it is to reward diligence
and hard work with increased social status. As your ability to plow
and harvest crops increases, the people in the town like you more,
and give you gifts commensurate to your value to the community. And
once you have enough status and wealth, you can marry one of five
women to add to your overall happiness score.

MIKE: Leave it to the Japanese to turn hard labor and social
obligations into a video game! So why are you playing this, Crow?
I didn't think you were too big on either...

CROW: *sigh* I'm trying to get Ann to love me! She's just so cute, with
her tomboy charm and love of machinery! I've been playing for
twenty hours just to upgrade my house and get 1000GP so I can marry
her!

[MIKE and TOM stare agape at the camera.]

CROW: But then, there's Ellen! Her sweet nature and love of animals
just drives me wild! And I can't forget about Maria... she's a
church girl to be sure but she is just so beautiful! And what about
Eve? And Nina? I just can't choose! I love them all!

MIKE: Uhhh.... we'll be right back....

[Commercial Sign: WAR! HA! What is it good for? Huge ratings, of course!
Bombs! Guns! Death! Destruction! Live from the front lines with Ollie
North, G. Gordon Liddy, and Newt Gingrich! Tonight on FOX NEWS, your 'fair
and balanced' news channel!]

[SOL Bridge. The TV and video game system is gone. Crow is huddled in a
corner, sobbing his ping-pong ball eyes out.]

CROW: WAAAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!! What did I do????

MIKE: [entering with Tom] Crow, what's wrong?

CROW: My wife left me!!! She claimed that I was too much of a workaholic
and didn't spend enough time with her!

TOM: [sidling up next to Crow] Oh, Crow, there are other pixels in the
phosphor sea...

CROW: I can't take this anymore! I have shamed my community and my
ancestors! I'm going to go commit seppuku! [gets up, starts to
leave]

MIKE: [pulls Crow back] Get back here, Crow. Besides, Pearl's calling.
[hits Mads light]

[Castle Forrester.]

PEARL: Hey there, Neltron. So sorry your little farming game didn't work
out. I just wanted to let you know I've been doing a little
"farming" of my own. I have just found a website with all the
text files I need--to RULE THE WORLD!!!! Once I unleash this stuff
on a panic-stricken populace, everyone will bow down to me!
[cackles wildly]

[SOL Bridge.]

TOM: Oh no, she couldn't have!

CROW: It can't be!

MIKE: She couldn't have found the John_-_Winston archive! Or tracked down
Ratliff's secret stash!

[Castle Forrester.]

PEARL: No, no, no! Your limited minds cannot comprehend the incredible
treasure I have just uncovered! I have found a website devoted to
English papers--and not only that, they are all free! Free, I tell
you, free!!! It's called essay.org, filled with all sorts of papers
not even fit for those pay sites for student cheaters! Your essay
for today is one of the cream of the crop; a little piece of
academic cheese we like to call "My Stereotype" by Brandon D. Hart,
a little piece about the seedy underbelly of rural California
society... and how the author hates its guts! Enjoy!

[SOL Bridge. Movie sign flashes. Chaos ensues... you'd think after ten
seasons, they'd be used to this by now.]

ALL: WE'VE GOT ESSAY SIGN! [exit]

[6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...]

[All enter theater.]

> Brandon D. Hart

TOM: The next president of the United States!

> March 24, 1999

CROW: A day which will live in--
MIKE: [muffling Crow] It's been done.

> Final Revision

TOM: This summer's hot new blockbuster, starring Joe Don Baker as a hard-
edged history professor with a vengeance!
CROW: Thrill as he takes down Holocaust deniers and ultra-liberal textbook
publishers!
MIKE: Directed by Jerry Bruckheimer and Roger Mudd, only on the History
Channel!

> My Stereotype

CROW: "My Stereotype: Jar Jar Binks and Me", by George Lucas.

> When I was fourteen,

TOM: [Homer Simpson] ~ I drank a very good beer... ~

> I gave little thought to the various ways people earned money to support
> their families.

CROW: I thought people got their money off the money tree!

> I believed people worked to earn their livelihood.

MIKE: Despite constant media saturation, I had yet to learn about crime,
fraud, and "MAKE MONEY FAST" spams.
TOM: You've got the wrong idea, lad! The trick is not to work for your
own livelihood! It's to get *others* to work for your livelihood!
Just look at all of those feudal lords and sweatshop owners!

> It came as a surprise to learn there were devious ways of getting money
> without having to work for it.

CROW: [Brandon] I was surprised that I didn't think of them first!

> One method was known as public welfare abuse.

MIKE: [Brandon] There was *another* method, but we don't really talk about
it in polite society...

> After spending many weekends at my grandfather's ranch,

CROW: I got bow-legged.

> I discovered what welfare was, and how a community could abuse the system.
> At a young age, I quickly learned to associate the stereotype "white-
> trash"

TOM: With Jim Varney, Jeff Foxworthy, and monster truck rallies.

> with a welfare community, which existed in west Fresno.
> My older brother and I spent many weekends on my
> grandfather's ranch in west Fresno, shooting pellet guns and riding
> horses.

MIKE: Then we tried riding pellet guns and shooting horses, but that
didn't turn out so well...

> One Saturday morning the three of us were riding along the
> canal that separated the ranch from the neighbors. We all glanced
> up when a voice called out,

CROW: [voice] Look out! The canal's flooding!!!

> "Hi neighbor,

TOM: [Mr. Rogers] Welcome to my dysfunctional neighborhood!
MIKE: [Mr. Rogers] Can you spell "white trash", boys and girls?

> my daughter Suzy's gonna have a baby." I'd seen the woman
> before,

CROW: On COPS.

> she was a neighbor, but I didn't know her name.
> We reined to a halt and my grandfather said,

TOM: [grandfather] Did I remember to turn the coffee pot off?

***BOOM!!!***

TOM: [grandfather] Guess not...

> "Suzy, she's only a child, and not even married."
> "Oh it's all right, she's almost fifteen."
> "Have you considered an abortion?"
> "I won't let her have an abortion.

MIKE: [neighbor] What would the Pope think?

> I want her to have the baby and I won't let her get married either.

TOM: [neighbor] Men are pigs, after all! She's going to shack up with
a nice lesbian girl!

> If she's unmarried, the county will pay for the birthing and send her a
> welfare check every month.

MIKE: Does the author have any conception of how people *actually* talk?

> Heck, I was younger than she was when I got pregnant with Erica, my oldest
> daughter, and went on welfare.

MIKE: [grandfather] Uhh... why are you telling me this?
CROW: [neighbor] It's plot exposition... it has to go somewhere!

> The county has paid for all four of my daughters and five grandchildren."

TOM: If this isn't an argument for forced sterilization, I don't know
what is!

> Then she chuckled. "We're definitely a welfare family."

MIKE: [neighbor] I'm proud to be a sleazeball!

> My grandfather asked, "How about your husband?"

CROW: [grandfather] He's not pregnant too, is he?

> "Oh, Fred and I got married after I already had two of the
> girls. Never did know who the fathers were. At first, Fred was too proud
> to ask for welfare,

TOM: [Fred] Honey, I pull in $80K a year... do I really need to quit my
job so we can get $500 a month from the public dole?

> but then he learned how easy it was to qualify.

[ni'k]

MIKE: [Fred] Okay, so I get welfare and food stamps, and you take
possession of my *immortal soul*?
TOM: [welfare worker] Don't bother with the fine print, sir. Oh, by the
way, try not waste too much of your own blood, there's more forms to
sign!

> All you have to do is tell them you have a back pain, and
> can't work. There ain't no way they can prove you're lying.

CROW: [neighbor] Doctor's verifications... heh!
MIKE: This guy's too formal even while writing slang!

> He hasn't done a day's work for over twelve years, gets a steady check
> every month, rain or shine. It's a lot better than doing farm
> labor."

TOM: Alas, he will never achieve each other's goals--with grit!

> As we rode off, I recall seeing my grandfather shake his
> head in disgust, and telling us, "Boys, that's what you call "white-
> trash." Public welfare is something I hope you never get involved
> with."

CROW: [grandfather, as Jacob Marley] The public welfare, charity, mercy,
forbearance, and benevolence... they're none of your business!

> It was the first time I'd heard my grandfather use the word
> "white-trash," and associate it with the neighbors who were on
> welfare.

MIKE: Regardless of what race they were.

> After that morning, I considered anyone who was on welfare
> and living on the West Side to be "white-trash."

TOM: [singing] ~ Maria... I've just met a white trash named Maria!!! ~
MIKE: [Brandon] I started shunning everyone outside my social class! I
turned my back on hope and love!

> In the neighbor's back yard sat a trailer house.

TOM: Until the tornado hit, anyway,

> Emma, their unmarried second eldest daughter, her boyfriend, and her two
> children lived in it.

CROW: Something tells me this is one "Emma" Gwyneth Paltrow won't be
champing at the bit to play...

> The boyfriend, who was also on welfare, shacked up with her only after the
> welfare caseworker told Emma she should live with a man in order to
> present a father-figure to the young children.

TOM: Anything to preserve their screwed-up, twisted version of
"normalcy."

> The boyfriend was a backyard auto mechanic, accepting cash only, thereby
> not jeopardizing his monthly welfare payments.

MIKE: When you're in West Fresno, make sure you bring your Visa debit
card, because under-the-table welfare mechanics don't take American
Express!

> Nora, the youngest daughter was only thirteen and well
> developed for her age.

TOM: Her parents had opted for Kodak Ultra processing.
CROW: [vivaciously] "Well-developed," eh? I'm sure she is..

[MIKE reaches over to smack CROW in the back of the head.]

CROW: What? I'm just sayin'! That's what they meant when they said that,
isn't it?
MIKE: But it--\

[MIKE doubletakes, looks at Crow, looks at the screen, looks at Crow again,
then puts his head in his hands and sobs.]

> She and her boyfriend, a twenty-six-year-old crusty biker,

MIKE: [Iron Chef announcer] The salt crust grill seals in the natural
juices of the biker, and highlights the essence of the beer marinade.

> ran away to Coalinga, where they stayed for two months. She was "dumped
> off" at her parent's house, broke, hungry, and pregnant.

TOM: Ha ha ha ha ha! "Dumped off!" "White trash!" I get it!!!
MIKE: *groan* Whatever...

> At once, her mother made sure she was on welfare. She took up with a
> worthless youth named Arnold, who was using narcotics, and lived a half
> mile away. His entire family was also on welfare.

CROW: Your taxpayer dollars at work, ladies and gentlemen!

> One of Arnold's first acts was to plant marijuana behind
> Vida's house. Each day Nora and Arnold tended their dozen or so
> plants of illegal weed.

CROW: [Nina from *Harvest Moon*] I want to do garden forever!
MIKE: Whoa... grazing in the grass really *is* a gas!
TOM: Baby, can I dig it.

> Finally they harvested it and dried it in the sun. Then each day they
> rolled and smoked the grass.

TOM: Is this a cautionary essay or a farming manual?

> It wasn't long until Arnold graduated to cocaine and needed money to
> purchase it. So he stole bales of alfalfa right out of the field

TOM: ...and smoked them too!

> and sold them to unsuspecting horse owners.

CROW: Little did they know he cut his alfalfa with baking soda.

> Each afternoon, as many as ten or twelve other welfare recipients from the
> local area came to the back yard and joined in the narcotic sessions.

MIKE: [Dave Barry] In their drug-filled haze they decided that "Narcotic
Sessions" was a good name for a band.

> They drank beer and played rock and roll music.

CROW: Hey Mike, you drink beer and play rock and roll music--that makes
you white trash, right?
MIKE: Well, um... oh... HEY!

> I was amazed how deviant that community was.

TOM: Mike, if everyone in the town is doing drugs and on welfare, and
these guys are the only ones that aren't, wouldn't that make the
community's behavior "normal" and these guys "deviant"?
MIKE: I wouldn't think about it too much, Servo.

> I recall one day when my grandmother came in from the back porch and told
> us what Vida tried to get her to do.

CROW: Play the female lead in "Space Mutiny"?
TOM: Slap beef jerky on her face and puncture farmers with a pitchfork?
MIKE: Buy a demon-possessed stuffed monkey from Merlin's Shop of Mystical
Wonders?

> Vida encouraged my grandmother to sign up for public welfare,

TOM: [grandma] Sorry, but I already make $500,000 a year off my internet
startup!

> but she told Vida, "My husband is drawing a fire department pension from
> the city, he can't qualify for welfare."

MIKE: [grandma] Plus we already have a welfare for people our age--it's
called Social Security!
TOM: I thought it was called begging off your adult children...
MIKE: Eh... same difference...

> "I think you should try anyway," Vida insisted. "Heck, I
> tell all my friends, 'it's free, so you might as well get your
> share."

CROW: What is she? The head missionary of the International Church of
Welfare?

> Vida had experienced poverty for most of her life, along
> with illicit births, narcotics, theft, and unhappiness.

TOM: I guess fraudulent welfare money can't buy you happiness...

> She was discouraged with life after seeing her children and grandchildren
> drop out of school, smoke marijuana, steal, and become parents of
> illicit and unwanted babies.

MIKE: Although she encouraged them to do so every step of the way!

> At some time in their lives, each of her daughters had prostituted
> themselves for survival

CROW: C'mon, I know car insurance is expensive in California, but...

> or possibly spending money that the welfare check wouldn't cover. Vida
> had little to look forward to, except her meager monthly handouts of
> public welfare. With this as a lifestyle, it wasn't long until she
> decided to take her own life.

TOM: Man, this makes "Bleak House" look cheery by comparison!

> My grandfather and I were outside saddling up the horses

MIKE: [Data] Saddle up! Lock and load!
CROW: [grandfather] Time to rob the 8:30 stage!

> when we heard the scream; so loud it could be heard a half-mile
> away. I looked over at my grandfather, and he had a shallow look on
> his face. He said, "It sounds like someone is getting beaten over
> there."
> I replied, "Yeah, lets go see."

[ni'k]

CROW: [Brandon] Cool! Domestic violence! Can we watch?

> "No Brandon, it's none of our business what goes on over
> there."

TOM: [grandfather] You get enough of that on FOX, anyway!

> Then suddenly Nora the youngest daughter came running over
> to us. "My momma, my momma, she just shot herself, get some help. Hurry!
> Hurry! Get some help, please!"
> So we did, but when the paramedics arrived it was too late.
> Vida had shot herself in her right temple

MIKE: Almost knocking over the statue of the Angel Moroni.

> with a .32 caliber pistol

TOM: A .32 caliber pistol? There's no such thing!
CROW: Does it make a difference, Servo?
TOM: Look, there are 9 mm, .22, .38, .357, .40, .44, .45, and .50 caliber
pistols, but there are no .32 caliber pistols, at least in the US.
CROW: This guy isn't exactly the paragon of journalistic accuracy... why
worry about it?
MIKE: Actually, Tom, there were .32 caliber pistols, yet they fell out of
popularity due to low performance and competition with other small
caliber arms, such as the .22. Today, the .32 caliber is mostly
used in starter pistols and other blank-firing guns.
CROW: So maybe... the welfare mom reached for a gun, fired off her starter
pistol by mistake, and she was trampled to death by the onrushing
team of sprinters doing the 100-meter dash!
MIKE: Quite possibly.
TOM: Thank you, Mike... hey, how do you know so much about guns, anyway?
MIKE: Ummm... I had a crazy uncle...

> while kneeling at her bedside.

TOM: Damn... almost brings a new meaning to "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep".
CROW: But because she managed to pass her genes on to the next generation,
she does not qualify for a Darwin award.

> Soon after that incident, my grandfather sold the ranch.

TOM: And bought the farm!
MIKE: Tom, I'm not quite sure that's appropriate...

> I haven't been back there since, so I don't know what the family is
> doing or even if they still live there. However, when I had
> previously visited the ranch on weekends something different was
> always happening on the other side of the canal. I witnessed
> parities

CROW: They might be scumballs, but they always error-check their bytes.

> that involved drugs, dirty white people

TOM: "Dirty White People"? Isn't that Michael Moore's latest book?

> who looked as if they hadn't showered in days.

CROW: We prefer the term "hygenically challenged".
TOM: Or is it "differently scented"?

> This community was disgusting and taking advantage of the welfare program,
> when originally it was designed to help less fortunate.

MIKE: [community] And we would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't
for you meddling kids!

> I stereotyped that community as, "white-trash."
> Fortunately by the early 1990's,

TOM: ... that neighborhood had been bulldozed and turned into a mini-
mall!
CROW: And Vanilla Ice was fastly redefining the meaning of "white trash"!

> welfare abuse had become such a burden on the taxpayers,

MIKE: The Pentagon had to cut back on $10,000 toilet seats...
TOM: President Clinton had to fill up Air Force One with *regular* gas...
CROW: It was even so bad that John Sununu couldn't afford to get a
haircut!

> that congress and the president passed legislation limiting the time a
> recipient could stay on the welfare rolls. Free job training was offered
> and thousands began working for a living.

TOM: Unfortunately, then the economy took a huge nosedive and downsizing
companies fired them all, sending them into even worse trouble
because there was no welfare to help them!
CROW: Yeah, if you want to look at the problem *realistically*...

> Although public welfare still exists for the needy, it is hopeful it will
> no longer be abused as a way of life, the way the "white-trash" community
> did in west Fresno.

TOM: The "white-trash" community was arraigned in Superior Court, County
of Los Angeles. In a moment, the results of that trial.
MIKE: Let's just get out of here, you guys.

[All leave the theater.]

[1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...]

[SOL Bridge. The TV and SNES are back, and it looks like Crow is playing a
game that looks like the Harvest Moon he was playing earlier, but the farmer
is sitting inside his house and the little TV is showing a tiny sprite-based
episode of.... Jerry Springer?]

MIKE: [entering] Well, hey, it looks like Crow has gotten over his video
game heartache. Back to the old farm, are we?

CROW: Well, not exactly. I was so inspired by the people in the essay
that I decided to reprogram the game. I give you "Harvest Moon--
West Fresno Edition!"

MIKE: Show me the game, my good fellow.

[Several moments pass. Nothing happens on the screen.]

MIKE: I thought you were going to show me the game, Crow. Nothing's
happening.

CROW: Exactly! I don't have to do anything if I am on welfare! In fact,
if I do any work, they stop my welfare check! Then the Child
Protective Services come and take my children away! It's a straight
road to "GAME OVER" from there! But if I sit here and watch TV
for the next 40-60 hours, I win the game!

MIKE: You have children?

CROW: Yeah, they're probably out boozing and whoring somewhere.

MIKE: Euhhh... Do you do *anything* in this game?

CROW: Well, I can push the "A" button to smoke a joint. [Crow pushes a
button and the farmer on the screen rolls himself some major
doobage.] Oh, and you can hit "L" and "R" to change the TV
channels. Try it, Mike.

[Mike takes the controller and pushes the shoulder buttons. The little TV
inside the TV changes from Jerry Springer to Dukes of Hazzard to Hee Haw to
wrestling to tractor pulls, then back to Jerry.]

MIKE: Crow, this game is completely worthless! What's the point of
playing it if all you do is sit around and do nothing?

CROW: Oh you and your complaints, Mike! You didn't like the first game
because all it had was pointless busywork, and now you don't like
this game, even though it's the exact opposite! There's no pleasing
you, is there?

TOM: [wheeling in] I don't know about you, Mike, but I love it! In
fact, it's so fun and easy even I can play it!

MIKE: Tom, you don't have working hands.

TOM: Exactly, Mike, exactly. [Mads light flashes] And speaking of
welfare mamas...

[Castle Forrester.]

PEARL: Man, I wish I would have known about that "welfare" thing before
I killed my son... oh well. I guess I can always apply for that
National Endowment for the Arts grant by covering Bobo in live
scorpions in front of an audience...

[A frantic, ape-like scream emanates from off camera.]

PEARL: But it seems the English essays aren't breaking your spirit as well
as I'd hoped. No bother. I've just found a "Lord of the Rings"
fanfic that will utterly obliterate any sense of self you once
thought you had.

[SOL Bridge.]

MIKE: Heh! It couldn't be any worse than "Cutey Hobbit Flash", could it?

TOM: Or "Gimli 1/2".

CROW: Yeah... if we could stand "Sauron Does Dallas", we can take
anything!

[Castle Forrester.]

PEARL: Oh, how little you know... [rubbing her hands together gleefully]
This fic is so bad, you might call it the "Manos: Hands of Fate" of
fanfiction!

[SOL Bridge. Tom and Crow are shaking terribly, jaws clattering in fear,
muttering things like "Torgo, no!" under their breath.]

MIKE: [oblivious like always] I don't think I've seen "Manos". Is it
any good?

[Castle Forrester.]

PEARL: You might... say that. But as for this fic, it's a delightful
little romp where Legolas goes to Canada and hangs out at the mall
with two teenage girls... and oh, did I mention it's 12 parts long?

[SOL Bridge. The man and the bots stand silent, staring wide-eyed into the
camera, giving off a "I think we're in for a world of hurt" sort of look.]

[Castle Forrester.]

PEARL: Now that I've gotten your attention, I think I'll send it to you
in its 120 kilobyte entirety *right now!* Now where's that--

BOBO: YAAAAAAA!!!! GET 'EM OFF ME!!! GET 'EM OFF ME!!!

[Bobo runs in, screaming and thrashing, covered head to foot in fire ants.]

PEARL: What the--

BOBO: HELP ME, LAWGIVER!!! HELP ME!!! OH *#$%@$#! I'LL NEVER USE HONEY
AS SUNSCREEN AGAIN!!!

PEARL: Well, it isn't scorpions, but... [evil grin] Now where did I put my
application form?

[Fade out. Credits roll.]

[space]

I thought that The Crow was jinxed and if you pretended to be him you would DIE.

I never pretend that shit.

[Rob Instigator]

Originally Posted by !@#$%!

fucking spectacular

seconded

[Rob Instigator]

check out this. will she bring back bell bottosm yet again? just because she is hiding her SCRAm ankle bracelet?

 

[ploesj]

that thing make her legs look like stumps.

[Rob Instigator]

it is not just a regular ankle bracelet either, but a specific type that detects whether she consumes alcohol by measuring the chemicals in her skin secretions. drunk ass idiot.

[ploesj]

she got a warning not to decorate it.

[!@#$%!]

Originally Posted by Rob Instigator

check out this. will she bring back bell bottosm yet again? just because she is hiding her SCRAm ankle bracelet?

 

her face looks plastic-surgery-bloated... plump and shiny

or is it steroids? cortisol maybe? for nerve pain?

[EVOLghost]

 

[tesla69]

“As part of Carvel’s 75th Anniversary celebration last year, we issued 75 Black Cards to celebrities. These cards were issued in the celebrity’s name and require the card holder to be present at the time of use. Many celebrities have enjoyed their cards at our Carvel Ice Cream shoppes and have shared their excitement with being included in the celebration.
“Unfortunately, the Lohan family has been abusing the card. While the card was issued in Lindsay’s name only, her extended family has repeatedly used the card without her present. At first, we graciously honored their requests while explaining that the Black Card was not a carte blanche for unlimited Carvel Ice Cream for the extended Lohan family and friends. After more than six months of numerous and large orders for ice cream, we finally had to cut off the card and take it back.
“Dina Lohan reacted badly and called the police to have her card returned. The police responded and did return the card to Dina with instructions not to use it again.

[tesla69]

edit double entry...

[!@#$%!]

appears ms freckles is going to take part in some heavy lesbo action... in prison

 

front page of the washington post sez so

here some photos for those of you who like to see people cry

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn...070604994.html

[automatic bzooty]

http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l5...0gaso1_400.gif

WHAT

[!@#$%!]

Originally Posted by automatic bzooty

http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l5...0gaso1_400.gif

WHAT

thanks for that.

[noisereductions]

she's really gone downhill since we broke up.

[atsonicpark]

Originally Posted by EVOLghost

 

using this for my next movie, thanks

[Rob Instigator]

90 day jail sentence, 90 days in rehab. we will see how much she serves.