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What was your best date and why?
Mine was when I ****** a blonde really hard in her parents' bed. Man, I will never forget that.

When I went to see my fiancé at the time, because I haven't seen him in 3 years since he's been in the Navy. Just seeing the love in his eyes that day and the date at a restaurant called the Havana and all the stuff that happened afterward was just...phenomonal.

Tips on color correction for colour NIGHTMARE?
Recently in a error of poor judgment did an at home die job... Why because I had months prior back in nov '06 been a girls color demo and went coppery red and it was fine but it faded it went blorange weirdness... So yes this past month i was like i want it gone but had no money to get rid of it i didnt know to die dark or light... Naturally im light ash blonde with light/meduim golden blonde mixture in it so im not a normal yellow blonde since ash is in the green spectrum and i know this i get the colour wheel. But i wasnt sure if i should bleach out the old faded blorange (faded orangy blonde mixture most my hair was) as only my like 2-3 inch growth of roots was my natural ash blonde. i was just gonna leave it alone but a friend assured me to one not be a woose just die it and fix it and that 2 they could help and knew wha they were sooooo doing... well in the end we tried bleachin it out owe owe owe that didnt work my roots went freak like white blonde craziness and my rest most my hair like neon light melon orange it was awful. so um that didnt work we tried to save it with violet-red die because dark burgandys tend to look good on me since im a fair and a cool toned person/neutral person overall. but that didnt work well neither now its like violet-red brown but more this weird purple and dthe ends are ******. worse thing i was trying to grow my hair back out again and now its so ****** and shot. im thinking just to chop lots off and let it fade and grow out cause like light ash blondes higher then a level 8 and wouldnt my hair fall out or something trying to get it corrected back to the natural... i dunno any bodies advice really. i look like such crap... my growing it out is shot now it was just bove my shoulders now more then halfs fried and it was so soft and swooshy and nice before. but in the end any one know of good salon recolorists or anything or how much it would cost what would they do i dunno. any advice pleaseeeeee.my hair colors not uniformed at all some areas are way light and its shades of weird urples and reds and violet red and brownish i dunno mainly just violet/red brownieness its just horrible. maybe im too vain but a girl hair i have to present myself to the world and the last thing i wanna do is look tarded. it could be more fried im luckt i had good good hair before but now its like half it super fried will i just have to get that cut off i dont mind being staying dark either if it would be safer... so we know my color was a permanint dyed all i could do is wait for growth if its not corrected right since thatll never fully go away. whats a good way to bring back the former health soft and i dunno niceness of my hair or is that impossible in the same hand with it. costs on corrections and wha they would do could help. if its better to ask for my natural color how damaging or unreal is that to get since i know ash blonde seems hard to get i rarely seen it done right... and hmm i dunno if i get it cut what conidtioning or treatments help to bring back vitallity all that jazz... thank to any advice from any one what so evver i get thank you!

WELL, YOU'LL NEVER GET YOUR NATURAL COLOUR BACK NOMATTER WHAT YOU DO, YOU JUST HAVE TO BE PATIENT TIL YOUR COLOUR GROWS OUT, GO TO THE HAIR DRESSER AND Ask the best thing to do in your situation, even a hair supplies shop

I don't know whether to stay with him or not!?Long Story!!?
Hi guys i'm hoping you could help me out....

I've been with my boyfriend for nearly two years... we've been through so much together,
We were going to have a baby together last year and then a tragic incident happened and his father died so he told me to have an abortion because it wasn't the right time and he wasn't thinking straight.

Then I found out he had a gambling addiction and it made him angry at times where he'd hurt me..
& then one night we both got drunk and he went too far so I called the police..
which i regret :'( because I don't want him to go to prison (court in January)

But the worst thing is I don't blame him for all these things, I blame me. I don't know why. I just do. I love him so much & the times we had in between the rough patches were so amazing.

Because we argued so much at one point we had a little break... we always said to each other no matter what, we'd never be with anyone else because we're going to spend the rest of our lives together.

Then I found out he went on a date with this girl from his work and apparently it wasn't just them two, it was her friend as well. This lead me to depression. He loves blonde girls and my friend ****** my hair up and dyed it dark... he said he didn't like it... and then when we go on a little break he goes on a date with this gorgeous Lithuanian blonde girl. I'm thinking about it now and it's actually making me so upset. Why would he do this?

Still to this day he says it was just a 'friend' thing and he doesn't like her anymore. Then one night I was having a drink with a few friends, about 12am on a Thursday night I get a phone call from him... He said (in a drunk voice) "someone wants to speak to you" and some foreign girl comes to the phone saying hello... so I just hung up.

I asked him about it and it was a girl he'd known from traveling years ago called Andrea.. and she stayed in OUR bed whilst he stayed on the sofa APPARENTLY for three nights! Because she needed somewhere to stay and he had no choice but to let her stay there. I asked what did they do.. apparently he showed her all around London one day & got pissed with her another (when he called) the rest of the days he was working. Apparently they only shared a kiss because he was drunk.

And apparently she wanted to have sex with him and he said no. From my experience of men, I find that hard to believe, sorry guys I just think there's only a few decent guys out there.

What do I believe??

Because I need to know whether to give my heart to him this Christmas...

[THANKS FOR READING]

im a guy and first of all from what you wrote , you seem a really nice , caring person..but would seriously advise you to leave that bloke .i know you both WERE in love and i think that now it is more a one sided thing , because from what he is doing , it seem really that he doesnt care for you the same way you care for him. it may hurt to read this , but this is the truth and i think that you should look for someone who genuinely love you for what you are .
i think that he may have well not slept with that girl who slept in your bed , but hell , he hid a lot of stuff from you , right?
i think that you should leave him and take a bit care of yourself , till one day you meet someone who really cares.
hope that helps

Salon tonight!?
Ok guys here are some pictures of me.

i4.photobucket.com/albums/y132/wiouxev/DSC_0191.jpg
i4.photobucket.com/albums/y132/wiouxev/03-17-07_2253.jpg
i4.photobucket.com/albums/y132/wiouxev/1382440015_l.jpg

The middle one is probably the most recent. But my hair is closer to the first picture in length+color

Options im considering:
1. chemically straightening my hair: I straighten my hair with an iron and it seems like it would be a good idea
2. highlighting. blonde. not faint blonde pieces, but big chunks of blonde
3. A trim. I have little hairs that curl even after straightening due to them being dead and/or split ends.
4. there is a spot on the right side of my head that's missing a patch of hair. its kind of hard to see, but mastercuts ****** it up when they tried to thin my hair. what should i do about that?

Suggestions? This will be my first time going to somewhere different then great clips. They ****** up my hair last time

It's really cute. Ask the haristylist at the salon what they think about chemically straightening your hair. Your hair doesn't look that thick. I wouldn't want to take a chance on burning it up.

You have great teeth and a great smile! :)

Good luck! :)

Question about players for all the guys out there???Help please!!?
Okay, so this may sound a bit repetitive, but I always fall for the athletic and outgoing and confident types of guys.
I recently had a bad experience with one which really just put me down in the dumps, but I decided that I wasn't going to stoop down to a players level and that I was better than being played and ****** with.
So I was fine for a few weeks, but then I started realllly liking this other guy in one of my classes...One of the main reasons I was attracted to him was because he always spoke so eloquently and when we were discussing things in the class he'd always say something to make me think that he really is a decent, moral, and wholesome guy. Plus he's uber cute, an athlete.

BUT...here's the thing.
He's going on and off with this really slutty girl. I can tell that he doesn't like her for a relationship but maybe just as a typical "cheerleader blonde easy" girlfriend.

And I'm having a hard time deciphering if he really likes me or not, because he's always kinda staring at me and being really polite to me, and when he talks to me I can kinda tell he's really intent about it. I don't know...Im a really nice kinda girl and shy, so I'm just really having a hard time deciding if he really likes me, or if he's playing me because I'm not that confident and also shy.

So my question is, how can i tell this? And can player types change? Or should I just completely forget about him....

I just really cant stand players and would like to know what you guys think if I should just play it cool and see what happens or just forget about him, and move on......

See if he asks you out, and if he doesn't then just forget about him, no matter how hard. Believe me ive been in a similar situation.
Hope this helps!

I'm still here. A poem I wrote, your thoughts?
Evening San Fran nights are best spent in the streets stirring up trouble with
Happy Jack, are you a fool?—life proved my face to be
Spat upon—that’s a yes, friend. Joints joints marijuana kief joints
Traffic lights reflecting off madcap loonies and stoned
Enthusiasts in their suits and glass towers that rent open the tortured sky
With a metallic riiiip sreeech! Open to angels
And bare-headed smiling oriental garden loving wine tasting chinamen—
Morrison says we must die—what a prophet of Jonestown—
In car, watching city hills rolling past my window,
Feels like I’m miles high, watching the lights of the city roll upon
A canvas of my own mind’s painting—such thoughts surge unchecked
Through my innocent mind as Hank forces the wheel of poor
Aged ‘54 cadillac to squeal like unhappy lovers who couldn’t
Quite get the dime in the coin slot, moan, what a boring love scene,
In observing such playing out in my mind—“dear, we’ll try again in the morning”—“But
I’m drunk!”—“Well then do something other than grab me, I feel
So used”—“But I’m drunk!”—and so on, until Hank finishes his mad
Turn to turn the focus back to the conversation at hand,
Does Rimbaud compare to the complexities of the queer prose
Of Ginsberg, and Kerouac’s capture of the beat american rapture,
I’m sitting drunk in the back seat as Hank turns to me—“what say you,
Love?”—to which I drink my wine and smile belatedly,
I miss blonde haired lovers, Hank perceives such,
“Boy, have we gotta get you ****** by a mad woman!
You are unhappy, a night with a wild brunette will set you straight,
Look at her, standing solemn on the street, what about her?
No wine, boy, no wine.”
—and so on, until I’m sick and tired of listening to mad rants on the mysteries of
Sex and one night stands, I look forward to conversing with Cass
On the subject, perhaps drink and sleep, holding tight,
Promised I’d be faithful, and damn, just waiting—
Watching wine flowing down her dress as she quirks an eyebrow and
Asks “yes?” and cracks a smile to see my expression upon her body,
And back to backseat car ride, not sure where we are headed,
I had never been the one to care, just the one to smile and drink
And smoke to loosen up, to which I then open my soul
Gushing forth and banging the headseat and bursting out,
The world smiles and I laugh, Lucas moans to the pair of fancily adorned
Women on the corner, four way stop, luck dealing him a red light,
Groaning poetry about his journeys to lakes with lovers and red lips
To which the ladies laugh and continue on their way,
Suddenly the radio pushes out another tune,
“hate your next door neighbor,
But don’t forget to say grace”—to which I cry,
“Boys, we’re on the Eve of destruction driving in this mess of a tank,
Let me out!”—O, and poor happy me,
Wine bottle in hand, staggering out on the streets,
Searching for queens, finding wives,
Who are being happy indeed, I feel as in court, but is
Only my mess of a mind, red wine seeping creeping,
And I stumble into a corner, a hub of activity
Where I observe zen cats passing out on the streets and rocking down hillways
Thumbs in pockets an’ eyen’ the passerbys cold and hard,
Like mankind’s ***,
And to me they stop and share their wares and offer me a ride,
Humbly I stumble into a ’92 subaru white and speeding wildly through San Francisco
Parkways and beaches to churches and diners-cafeterias at midnight.
Humble college boy with cherubic expression and pool eyes with Visions of Cody
Hanging out jacket pocket smiles at me over my meal of beefy soup and
Hard-tack bread, tastes of garlic and vegetable oil—I’m not one to complain—especially
Over the time I rode six hours straight by Amtrak train from Sacramento to Hanford
For Thanksgiving holiday next to hard pimp
And drawing up knees to chin curled against window temple resting on churning rocking
Window watching the countryside melt along melding into towns rusting abandoned
Company windows and loading docks, overgrown yards and farmsteads—needless to say
The boy is a knowledgeable loon talking and in constant motion of combing
Hair back to smile and blink rapidly—muscle spasm?—and talks to me
About novels and classical tone clarity, beating thrumming his ink-stained
Fingertips against the grain of the rusting chipped table at which I sit and
Slurp soup, words coming up against me rising cascading and running clean
Out the other side—I seldom listen to anyone anymore.

This is one of those poems that you print out and carry around in your pocket for a while to think about and enjoy. Great writing! You are starting to get scary good at writing poems.

My LONG poem of the day--if you so desire, any comments, thoughts?
Evening San Fran nights are best spent in the streets stirring up trouble with
Happy Jack, are you a fool?—life proved my face to be
Spat upon—that’s a yes, friend. Joints joints marijuana kief joints
Traffic lights reflecting off madcap loonies and stoned
Enthusiasts in their suits and glass towers that rent open the tortured sky
With a metallic riiiip sreeech! Open to angels
And bare-headed smiling oriental garden loving wine tasting chinamen—
Morrison says we must die—what a prophet of Jonestown—
In car, watching city hills rolling past my window,
Feels like I’m miles high, watching the lights of the city roll upon
A canvas of my own mind’s painting—such thoughts surge unchecked
Through my innocent mind as Hank forces the wheel of poor
Aged ‘54 cadillac to squeal like unhappy lovers who couldn’t
Quite get the dime in the coin slot, moan, what a boring love scene,
In observing such playing out in my mind—“dear, we’ll try again in the morning”—“But
I’m drunk!”—“Well then do something other than grab me, I feel
So used”—“But I’m drunk!”—and so on, until Hank finishes his mad
Turn to turn the focus back to the conversation at hand,
Does Rimbaud compare to the complexities of the queer prose
Of Ginsberg, and Kerouac’s capture of the beat american rapture,
I’m sitting drunk in the back seat as Hank turns to me—“what say you,
Love?”—to which I drink my wine and smile belatedly,
I miss blonde haired lovers, Hank perceives such,
“Boy, have we gotta get you ****** by a mad woman!
You are unhappy, a night with a wild brunette will set you straight,
Look at her, standing solemn on the street, what about her?
No wine, boy, no wine.”
—and so on, until I’m sick and tired of listening to mad rants on the mysteries of
Sex and one night stands, I look forward to conversing with Cass
On the subject, perhaps drink and sleep, holding tight,
Promised I’d be faithful, and damn, just waiting—
Watching wine flowing down her dress as she quirks an eyebrow and
Asks “yes?” and cracks a smile to see my expression upon her body,
And back to backseat car ride, not sure where we are headed,
I had never been the one to care, just the one to smile and drink
And smoke to loosen up, to which I then open my soul
Gushing forth and banging the headseat and bursting out,
The world smiles and I laugh, Lucas moans to the pair of fancily adorned
Women on the corner, four way stop, luck dealing him a red light,
Groaning poetry about his journeys to lakes with lovers and red lips
To which the ladies laugh and continue on their way,
Suddenly the radio pushes out another tune,
“hate your next door neighbor,
But don’t forget to say grace”—to which I cry,
“Boys, we’re on the Eve of destruction driving in this mess of a tank,
Let me out!”—O, and poor happy me,
Wine bottle in hand, staggering out on the streets,
Searching for queens, finding wives,
Who are being happy indeed, I feel as in court, but is
Only my mess of a mind, red wine seeping creeping,
And I stumble into a corner, a hub of activity
Where I observe zen cats passing out on the streets and rocking down hillways
Thumbs in pockets an’ eyen’ the passerbys cold and hard,
Like mankind’s ***,
And to me they stop and share their wares and offer me a ride,
Humbly I stumble into a ’92 subaru white and speeding wildly through San Francisco
Parkways and beaches to churches and diners-cafeterias at midnight.
Humble college boy with cherubic expression and pool eyes with Visions of Cody
Hanging out jacket pocket smiles at me over my meal of beefy soup and
Hard-tack bread, tastes of garlic and vegetable oil—I’m not one to complain—especially
Over the time I rode six hours straight by Amtrak train from Sacramento to Hanford
For Thanksgiving holiday next to hard pimp
And drawing up knees to chin curled against window temple resting on churning rocking
Window watching the countryside melt along melding into towns rusting abandoned
Company windows and loading docks, overgrown yards and farmsteads—needless to say
The boy is a knowledgeable loon talking and in constant motion of combing
Hair back to smile and blink rapidly—muscle spasm?—and talks to me
About novels and classical tone clarity, beating thrumming his ink-stained
Fingertips against the grain of the rusting chipped table at which I sit and
Slurp soup, words coming up against me rising cascading and running clean
Out the other side—I seldom listen to anyone anymore.

Holy cow dude. This one takes you for a ride. There's a sort of heady Bukowski-meets-modern bum poet feel to this; a lost and terrified sense of security. Images just come and go, passing, beautiful, adding to that ineffable quality of life that we all know but can't quite name. The terrible walks hand in hand with the wondrous. The end message seems to indicate how little it all signifies, ultimately.

"quirks an eyebrow" - a little gem tucked in there. I also thought the choice of where to break the lines was quite well calculated to create multiple effects of meaning across the lines.

wicked job.

A poem I wrote last night, more of a story-ish poem. It's really long, and criticism is always welcome?
Evening San Fran nights are best spent in the streets stirring up trouble with
Happy Jack, are you a fool?—life proved my face to be
Spat upon—that’s a yes, friend. Joints joints marijuana kief joints
Traffic lights reflecting off madcap loonies and stoned
Enthusiasts in their suits and glass towers that rent open the tortured sky
With a metallic riiiip sreeech! Open to angels
And bare-headed smiling oriental garden loving wine tasting chinamen—
Morrison says we must die—what a prophet of Jonestown—
In car, watching city hills rolling past my window,
Feels like I’m miles high, watching the lights of the city roll upon
A canvas of my own mind’s painting—such thoughts surge unchecked
Through my innocent mind as Hank forces the wheel of poor
Aged ‘54 cadillac to squeal like unhappy lovers who couldn’t
Quite get the dime in the coin slot, moan, what a boring love scene,
In observing such playing out in my mind—“dear, we’ll try again in the morning”—“But
I’m drunk!”—“Well then do something other than grab me, I feel
So used”—“But I’m drunk!”—and so on, until Hank finishes his mad
Turn to turn the focus back to the conversation at hand,
Does Rimbaud compare to the complexities of the queer prose
Of Ginsberg, and Kerouac’s capture of the beat american rapture,
I’m sitting drunk in the back seat as Hank turns to me—“what say you,
Love?”—to which I drink my wine and smile belatedly,
I miss blonde haired lovers, Hank perceives such,
“Boy, have we gotta get you ****** by a mad woman!
You are unhappy, a night with a wild brunette will set you straight,
Look at her, standing solemn on the street, what about her?
No wine, boy, no wine.”
—and so on, until I’m sick and tired of listening to mad rants on the mysteries of
Sex and one night stands, I look forward to conversing with Cass
On the subject, perhaps drink and sleep, holding tight,
Promised I’d be faithful, and damn, just waiting—
Watching wine flowing down her dress as she quirks an eyebrow and
Asks “yes?” and cracks a smile to see my expression upon her body,
And back to backseat car ride, not sure where we are headed,
I had never been the one to care, just the one to smile and drink
And smoke to loosen up, to which I then open my soul
Gushing forth and banging the headseat and bursting out,
The world smiles and I laugh, Lucas moans to the pair of fancily adorned
Women on the corner, four way stop, luck dealing him a red light,
Groaning poetry about his journeys to lakes with lovers and red lips
To which the ladies laugh and continue on their way,
Suddenly the radio pushes out another tune,
“hate your next door neighbor,
But don’t forget to say grace”—to which I cry,
“Boys, we’re on the Eve of destruction driving in this mess of a tank,
Let me out!”—O, and poor happy me,
Wine bottle in hand, staggering out on the streets,
Searching for queens, finding wives,
Who are being happy indeed, I feel as in court, but is
Only my mess of a mind, red wine seeping creeping,
And I stumble into a corner, a hub of activity
Where I observe zen cats passing out on the streets and rocking down hillways
Thumbs in pockets an’ eyen’ the passerbys cold and hard,
Like mankind’s ***,
And to me they stop and share their wares and offer me a ride,
Humbly I stumble into a ’92 subaru white and speeding wildly through San Francisco
Parkways and beaches to churches and diners-cafeterias at midnight.
Humble college boy with cherubic expression and pool eyes with Visions of Cody
Hanging out jacket pocket smiles at me over my meal of beefy soup and
Hard-tack bread, tastes of garlic and vegetable oil—I’m not one to complain—especially
Over the time I rode six hours straight by Amtrak train from Sacramento to Hanford
For Thanksgiving holiday next to hard pimp
And drawing up knees to chin curled against window temple resting on churning rocking
Window watching the countryside melt along melding into towns rusting abandoned
Company windows and loading docks, overgrown yards and farmsteads—needless to say
The boy is a knowledgeable loon talking and in constant motion of combing
Hair back to smile and blink rapidly—muscle spasm?—and talks to me
About novels and classical tone clarity, beating thrumming his ink-stained
Fingertips against the grain of the rusting chipped table at which I sit and
Slurp soup, words coming up against me rising cascading and running clean
Out the other side—I seldom listen to anyone anymore.

Wow...

Just -wow-.

I'm absolutely -loving- this. It's the closest I've ever seen any amateur (if you're even an amateur) come to touching the feel of Ginsberg's poetry. I loved the...Dylan-ness of it all, the details you chose to provide.

Fantastic. Now I've got to read it again.

How to build my confidence up? please help!?
ok, im 17 turning 18 this year,
im blonde i put makeup on get nails done and were fake tan.
but yet i have no confidence!!!!but im not a normal blonde(im no *****) i dont talk to anyone or anything.
iv had a really ****** up life, & my mum recently pass on..
iv been with my bf for 17 month and its a good healthy relationship..
but i NEVER go out i find it hard to go shop on my own or get on a bus or w.e,
iv been in care half my life, its been so hard for me, but now im nearly 18 i realy want to have the confidence to get a job and talk to people.
i went to court and they said i could have concealing, but its all over now and noones been in touch.. but i really want help, im fed up of staying in all day and not having friends. please help& no rude comments please as i am a really nice lass just looking for some good advise! thankyou:) x

* Appreciate who you are. * Feel good about your body and carry yourself gracefully. Spend a few minutes each day appreciating your body, I can guarantee you’d have a spring in your step. * Dress to impress and I say that with a bit of my tongue in cheek. Come on !! wear some new clothes, shoes,… Get that Givenchy or CK One perfume and smell goooddd. Go on look gorgeous, charming or absolutely stunning. * Do some exercises. Exercises help to release chemicals, endorphins and adrenalins and this creates natural highs. * Smile because it can be contagious. * Spend time doing things you love or are good at. * Take risks or stand up to challenges and feel good about it. * Remember and share your past achievements or awards but ensure you are constantly making progress in life. * Do the right thing. * Spend time with people you love e.g. spouse, partner, family, guyren….. They put that sparkle in you. * Live a life of integrity. * Become self aware. * Have some ME time. * Express yourself clearly, constructively, and confidently. * Gain control of emotions and feelings. Slow down on your anger and bitterness. * I never believed I would say this but GET SOME SWAGGER!!! * Go ahead; seek some intimacy, there’s nothing wrong with it or is there? * Spend time talking to or meeting people. * Don’t take to heart the negative things peoples say about you. At times people insult you only to hide their own insecurities. * Cook dinner even if you can’t cook. There’s always something funny about you cooking a horrible meal lol!!! On a serious note, always remember to enjoy your food. Having a bowl of ice cream won’t hurt. * Dance and sing to music even if you dont have the best voice in the world. Take that toothbrush, comb…(some of you know what i’m talking about lol!!), use it as a mic and sing!!! * Watch the television, feet up on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn in the hands and……. just feel good about yourself. * Use your initiative and do things that will aid your success. * Show some love and kindness to people. * Volunteer your time e.g. helping the homeless, mentoring, befriending and if possible donate to reputable charities. * Stand up for yourself (defend yourself) where necessary. * Create long term goals and work towards it. * Wake up earlier than usual and start the day being very active. * Be open to change. * Embrace your faiths, constructive beliefs and convictions. * Go for a run, walk or climb a mountain. * Share a joke. Don’t get too worried if it isn’t funny it’s just a BAD JOKE. * Let your imaginations run wild constructively lol!!! * Listen to the song "pocket full of sunshine". :) * Use affirmations. * Relax as often you can and sleep soundly. * Take photographs. * Be polite, well mannered and don’t forget to say thank you. * Don’t focus too much on making yourself feel good. Let it come naturally. * HAVE FUN!!!!!

What do you guys think of my verses?
From day one felt like I'm destined for greatness
I'm feelin like you've only been destined for fakeness
Before you haters start to judge me get to know my past
****** this game 'til it came when you said I wouldn't last
Made it thru the hard times, made it thru the tears
Made it despite you hatin on me all these ****** years
Bled when you wouldn't, said what you couldn't
Spoken words heard behind my back I warned ya you shouldn't
Rich ******' swag, you a dick suckin' fag
You drink ******' wine coolers, I drink straight Red Stag
Now I'm.. feelin like the best, the new Role-Model
Kids catch me in the spot chillin with Fo' models
**** pacin myself man I'm goin full throttle
What's the point of buyin shots? I'm drinkin the whole bottle
When it's all said and done I'll be the best who ever spit it
And everyone remember you as the dick sucker that never spitted.

It's your boy go show someone, the chosen one.
Lookin' like James Bond with this golden gun
007, better call the Reverend, one shot from this **** will send yo *** to heaven..
Or to hell, Your dumbass couldn't find God if you spent 5 years in jail
Flow so hot it'll make the devil sweat
Clothes so fly look like I'm sittin on a jet
I'm shittin' on the rest, got more b's than a nest
You smellin' like **** go grab a bar of Zest
I daydream bigger than your biggest wishes,
Stay clean ******' the baddest bitches.
**** a hoe, she ain't kno, her best friends next on my hit list
People frontin' sayin They as real as it gets
I saw your fake as on that Diet Dr. Pepper clip
Chillin with Santa, talkin bout snow
Naughty boys on the block tryna move blow
Easter Bunny, Big Foot, Check out the Tooth Fairy.
I'm a monster on this track, just call it Booth Scary.

Now I'm back *****, you wack *****, you know I'm the ****..
Goin' hard, **** foldin' cards, don't know when to quit..
Hard as a diamond, I ain't talkin bout my dick
If I was then we could place the blame all on your chick.
I know I got her wet, so it's a fair trade off
Call her SuperSoaker man that ***** sprayed off
Grim Reaper flow, killin all you hoes
Bring death to your career you already know
**** that girl all she want long as she keep it on the low
And as long as she stay out my biz, it's hoes under bros
I'm white skinned like Mike Jack after the procedure
But I'm on my grind while the rest of ya'll are masters of leisure
One day I'll chill and put my feet up too,
but not until the day I know I'm better than you.
****, I guess I might as well put my feet up now...
Cuz you better than me? Man, I just don't see how....

I'm revolutionary, the rap Paul Revere
Canonball lyrics, I'm spittin so severe
Your girl all up on me speakin in my ear
She say she like my chain, I say I like her rear
I know you're talkin ****, but I can't even hear
My **** legendary, your game ain't even near
I'm God-like, I'm Xerzes, you're Ron White
A new whip, a fat chain, a blonde dyke
Told her she ain't like the dick cuz she ain't never got it right
Went in on that hoe, now she sayin her girlfriend "ain't her type"
They say money makes the world go 'round, but I say it's sex man..
Money been here many years, but what about the rest man?
People want the green so that they can get the pink,
I got green like March 16th, These hoes can't even think
People say the checkin for me, better not blink
If success is a fine line I'm chillin on the brink.

I wrote this kinda quickly.. just wondering if anyone thinks I have any talent and if I should pursue it

i think you got something good going on, sounds great so far and if you say you wrote this quick id like to see what u can do with time, gangsta as i think you should keep goin with it. :)