You heard me. Fuck it. With a capital fucking F.

Anyone else a long time fan? Not one of those "OMG DEY ONE DA WURLD SERIEZ!" fans. As in, you were raised as a fan and will die as a fan, no matter what their record is.

PIC RELATED, also stolen. Thank you ESPN for finally sucking our massive cock.

I don't drink, I don't have sex nor look at porn, I masturbate once every two weeks or so, and I've never have tried illegal drugs.

That is quite a depressing predicament I'm in. If only I could be an immoral sleeze like the rest of New Englanders.

This is the story of Ned and how his gain of wealth from nothing tore his family apart in the end.

It's worth noting that this is based on true events that has happened around my family, but I'm with holding names as to not cause any unwanted turbulence within. If you somehow do put this together someone from my family, le sorry.

Ned was born on January 4th, 1907 at 4 in the morning in a small rural town of New Hampshire. He was born to Emilia James and John James, who had 2 children before him. He was being raised a farmers son as the only boy in the family, and was a hard worker from day one.

He was 4 years old and he was going with his father to the old shed on the edge of a corn field. It was a cold morning, frost had killed some of the early spring crops, and his father was visibly upset. He was sitting on the sheds dirt floor while John fiddled with what seemed to be a scythe head. Ned saw a large stick, standing up beside the door. Curious, he went over to it, and tried to pick it up. It was heavier than any stick he'd ever picked up. It had a small, metal hook on it that felt tight to the grasp. He took it in his hands and pulled the hook. He fell back onto the floor, ears ringing. He began crying due to the noise, and his father fell to the floor. He walked over to his dad, he was bleeding... He killed his father.

His mother came in and screamed at him, tears streaming down her face, she smacked Ned, and said he wasn't her son. She ran back to the house, ignoring Ned as he sat crying next to his fathers corpse. She made three calls. One to the hospital, one to the police department, and one to the orphanage.

MORE 2 CUM WEN I'M NOT TIRORD.

Quickly, give me ideas so I can completely disregard them and do something entirely retarded.

If only I didn't have two fathers...

Seriously. I'm out. Fresh out. It's like me is gone, and no one's in. You get it? Neither, but that's besides the point, you cunt.

Quickly random people of Newgrounds, how do I be me?

So awhile back, I was having major pain in my stomach. I'd wake up, and instantly be crippled by the utter pain in my stomach. I found out I was constipated or some shit and that's what was causing it, but there was basically nothing they could do at all. I tried everything from vicodin to advil to shit softeners galore. None of which worked.

Finally I realized, the only that stops me from feel the pain, is to act like people are watching me. See, when someones watching me, I can't moan and groan about my pain. It's nearly impossible. I have to act like a tough mother fucker and suck up the pain. Luckily for this situation, it actually stops the pain.

Moral of the story you ask? Stop being pussies. It'll cure your ailments.

Where the fuck are you? There's like...3 of you on the entire BBS that I've noticed, none of you notable. Get out of your fucking holes.

No really. I'm not just making this for attention. There's no way I'm going to just pop back up a week from now saying I couldn't do it, or tried to and failed. No way. At all. Seriously guys. I'm being serious.

Seriously.