Silk Road forums
Discussion => Newbie discussion => Topic started by: bitrox on March 13, 2013, 09:33 pm
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Smokes lets go.
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Ricky: Knock knock.
Cory: What?
Ricky: Knock knock.
Cory: Who's there?
Ricky: Two fucking idiots who don't know when to come around and buy dope. Now, get the fuck out of here.
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Ricky: The thing with kids and growings and getting learnings and stuff is that... You can't lie to them. Basically, if you wanna tell the children they can't do something they're gonna want to do it more. When I was young I did all kinds of crazy shit and I turned out wicked. That's because my dad was fuckin' cool, he let me do shit. I was allowed to drive his car around the park, basically took my dirt bike to school, let me grow dope in his shed in grade 7. You know, that's what good parenting is all about. You gotta let them have a bit of freedom.
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Julian: Ricky, I'm telling you, you gotta stop growing pot.
Ricky: Come on, man, you can't tell me to do that.
Julian: I'm serious Ricky.
Ricky: You can't tell me to do that. It's like telling the NWA to stop being black.
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J-Roc raps about gangsters & guns, pimps & hos and Compton. The guy's not from Compton. He's a white kid from a trailer park. He should rap about what he really knows which is living in his mom's trailer eating peanut butter sandwiches.
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Ricky: Knock-knock, Lahey.
Mr. Lahey: Who's there, Ricky?
Ricky: A fuckin' shitty fuckin' trailer park supervisor who hangs around with a big-gutted drunk elf who thinks he's gettin' us thrown back in jail but he can't 'cause he's got no evidence and he's dumb as fuck, and he's got this other thing goin' on in his head that's tryin' to... twirly around and... fuckin' get... different... FUCK!
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Randy: I can't get stoned, Ricky.
Ricky: What do you mean? It's shitty work. Everybody does that, all right? Carpenters, electricians, dishwashers, floor cleaners, lawyers, doctors, fuckin' politicians, CBC employees, principals, people who paint the lines on the fuckin' roads, get stoned, it'll be fun, get to work! Oh, and this is the most important, go down to the Shit-Mart. I need a bag of chicken chips. If they don't have chicken, get me dill pickle. And I want a chocolate milk.
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Ricky: Mr. Lahey and Randy to the Fuck-off department. Mr. Lahey and Randy to the Fuck-off department and hurry the fuck up!
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Mr. Lahey: Why don't you get a life Rick? Why don't ya go to community college like Julian here. Hey, I got a good idea. You could teach, livin' in a car and growin' dope 101.
Ricky: Hehe. And you can teach how to get drunk, get fired from the police force become a... lousy trailer park supervisor that sucks, hangs around with a fuckin' idiot that doesn't wear a shirt and looks like a dick but thinks he looks good... 101.
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this si cool story bro
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boom diggy dong ba dong dong ba diggy diggy
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Ricky: What, do you own space? No, NASA does.
[pronounces it "Nay-Saw"]
Satellite Employee: Naysaw?
Ricky: Rocket people? Perhaps you've heard of them?
Satellite Employee: It's NASA
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Ricky: I try to be a role model for kids around the park. If some kid wants to grow dope, they can come talk to me, instead of growing dope 6 or 7 times through denial and error, they're going to get it right the first time and have some good dope.