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Out of context: Reply #20
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- kingjulien0
There once was this little skinny guy named Carlos Valencia. He had a talented girlfriend--an artist--who had many fans on a popular design site. In one of Carlos’ more insane jealous moments, he created an alter ego, Buddylee, to heckle all of his lady's friends on the message board. Buddylee became more obsessive when he lost his girlfriend to another designer from that very same site, one obviously more charming and far more talented. He stewed in his depression for four years. He obsessed over his lost woman, and all of his insecurities came to the surface. Buddy Lee returned to the designer message board vowing revenge. He was a cock to everybody. He used racial epithets to taunt -- particularly Arabs and blacks, and anybody else who he couldn’t think of clever retorts he called “homos”. Then one day he got banned. That didn’t stop Buddy lee though. He created dozens of aliases, and returned. During a major crisis in American history he called the tragic victims of Hurricane Katrine “African savages”. He bragged about his weight training and his slow pitch softball leagues. Every month or so he posted links to lowrider conventions, and thought he was more “down” as a result of such interests. He rented movies like American Me and Blood in Blood Out, and put posters on the ceiling of Edward James Olmos, directly above his bed for easy midnight access. One day he went to this Italian restaurant, where a bunch of strip club employees were attending a birthday celebration. In an ironic twist of fate, one of his ex-girlfriends’ former friends happened to be there, a childhood friend of the birthday boy. Buddylee tried to hide in the corner with his white washed self, but it was too late. A mob of G-Unit’s finest surrounded him. They went out onto the balcony, dragging poor Buddylee, and held him down the side by his ankles. Buddylee at that point offered to perform sexual services on one of the smaller guys in the group, the one in the LB hat, but nobody was interested. At that point young Carlos was let go. He went into the bathroom and tossed his stained underway, making sure it was stuffed so deep in the trash can that nobody would ever find them (for they had property of Carlos Valencia written on them). He then grabbed his member’s only jacket and left.
The end.