Tag Archives: galore galore galore

Life sucks and then you die (or how I joined a sitcom and never looked back in anger)

What up mofos??? It IS most certainly UP in ma hood at this very mo – most mo’s to be fair.

Or perhaps not so UP at this particular very mo. Have to admit it has indeed been a thoroughly painful eve fo this lil’ gangsta. Holy crap (YES. Let’s bring holy religion to the table at this latish hour. Or not.). NO RELIGION. I agree to agree with yo scheweet-ass-self on this one.
Yep. NO religion. It’s no fun. (unless it’s Bad Religion – neva get sick of that ultra-special-high-quality-shit. Epic fiesta-FUN material all day every day).

Kinda sucks how ma beloved boyzzz lost (quite fairly) tonite. NOT a fan of that, honestly speaking.

Ima ’bout this impressed…

Gah gah gah gah gah gah. GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Gah gah gah gah gah gah.
GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.

So let’s not speak honestly anymore, kinda boring shit. And not very gangsta. Let’s get excited, let’s have FUN. So what’s FUN? I reckon being a gangsta moviestar is fun.

And what do gangstas do when they wanna have fun and be gangsta-moviestars? And make some sorta statement ’bout da riddicko title-obsessed world we live in? Correct answer would be they create their own dreamish gangsta-fun-title-criticizin’ reality… (or they just smoke shit, but hey – why not do both?).

So ya, that’s what ellagangsta did (apart from referring to herself in 3rd person (which could be considered lame… but not if yo is ellaGANGSTA) ).

YO is indeed a very lucky lil’ wannabe-fun-ass-lovin’-criminal-gangsta… one could say it’s yo lucky day! You get to check this shit OUT.

Check it OUT.

Pretty please lemme know if yo didn’t laugh yo lazy ass OFF – and I’ll refer yo to some sorta lame ass helpline. Back to da honest track again; hope it won’t come to that. And if it does – DO ASK SOMEONE ELSE FO SOME SORTA ASSISTANCE.

Cannot save yo lame ass soul on this one. Not today. So fo everyone’s best well-beingish state of mind, let’s just hope yo enjoy this fine piece of A(ss)rt.

Gonna head back to ma ultra-exciting life now, pinky promise it won’t be too long till ima back. Stay tuned beloved mofos.

 

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How to fuck (or how I’ve been keepin’ busy lately…)

LFC-Gangsta

Yo yo yo yo – or should I say hoe hoe hoe hoe!?!?!? Tis’ indeed dat time of da season!

So ya, hope yo asses have been havin’ a very Merry fuckin’ X-mas so far – naturally mine’s been an incredible blast!!!! Been to a few hoods, seen some OG’s dat I love, and yep, just keepin’ it real basically.

In da midst of all da Chrissie craze I somehow managed to read up a bit ’bout how to be a good fucker… didn’t really think I needed it, just wanted to confirm what I already knew;

Yeyo, bein’ yo everyday OG ima naturally a very good fucker, now surprises there if I may say so maself. I always tend to sweat wine and scream ultra loud, (amongst other good-fucker-actions-and-traits), while at it… so there yo go: ellagangsta is a real good fucker.

If yo ass feels da need to do that double-check and read up on it too – go ahead, there’s mos def some killer advice in dis particular article!

Also, yo may have noticed da ultra gangsta beanie ima rockin’ in da gangsta pic of da day. Yep, ellagangsta is now officially an OG LFC-gangsta. If yo didn’t know, it’s da coolest gangsta 1 can be.

I’d like to take cred fo dis one maself… but big shoutouts gotsa go OUT. It was 2 of ma fav gangstas who gave it to me during our galore X-mas celebrations yesterday, thank yo asses very muchly Agge & Danne.

Gotta run to a  party now, ultra-exciting-life just keeps on happenin’ and happenin’ – don’t know how to stop it – and why would I wanna???? Stay tuned, 2015’s ellagangsta predictions are just around da corner…!!!!

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Return of da ellaG (or how I will never smoke weed through ma pxxxy)

cooooooool yo.

cool yo.

Soooooooooooo, what up peeps? It’s mos def been a bit of what some would call a while. But that’s no wokkas. I can, and will, explain it all. What happened was, it got massively ultra-dark here in ma hood, and I did this test on FB, “what animal are you?”. Turned out I wazza bear. Shortly after that I went straight into hibernation. Natural thang to do when yo is a bear, duhhhh. Kinda felt good, since I don’t sleep all that much for some, or most, of da time.

Either way, woke up at some point, to: “Welcome to the year of the whores. People around the globe celebrate.

I don’t think I need to explain ma lil’ gangsta ass much, when I admit I went right, and straight back into hibernation. Felt pretty good. Let’s face it peeps, ima no whore, ima muttafucking gangsta bear. Word.

Anyhoo, at some point I did wake up again, it was a very strange smell, still, to this day, I cannot say if it was good or bad. Deffo some good vibes to it, so ya, this smell, and the way it made me feel… Strange combo, but hey, kinda got me goin’, to say the least.

Then life went on, as ya’ll know it’s A supa-ultra-exciting-times-life fo this lil’ gangsta allova time. so ya. For a bit I guess I forgot who I was until…. wait for it… I heard ma song! Yeyo, true story, woke up somewhere, somehow… and heard this – ellagangstaisdamothafuckengaloregangstaofalltimes – So, consider yoself to be a lil’ bit in luck to experience the return of this G.

As yo can see, ima lookin’ mo G than eva… lotsa filters to explore ma gangstaness – ma personal favs are the “food”one, and also the “pirate”one… cray cray pirates FTW me reckons. If yo ass guesses right on which those 2’s are, you will get to smoke some serious shit with me (not like the “this smell” link, that shit is nAstay).

Anyhoo, sharing is caring, and I care a lot boutcha’ll, so ima back with a vengeance, or blog, or whatevz, (same shit, difoo wööörd), to share ma shit whithca all, ultra exciting life as always. Do ya self a favour, and STAY TUNED. (NO MO HIBERNATION BS FTWWW. wööööörd on dat one.)

 

 

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Ma girl crush/Oranges + men = 1 (or how ima sharing the secret to eternal youth with ya’ll)

ellagangstaextensions

ellagangstaextensions

So, still cold in ma hood it appears – no surprises there. Harsh reality galore. Luckily enough I’ve got a new crush to keep me warm these days…. Her name is Yvonne and she is pretty and lovely and inspiring and just… hmmm, what’s the word I’m lookin’ fo here?

A M A Z I N G.

Kinda funny story actually, I first met her in da elevator at work, and she’s always lookin’ so fresh, so clean (as ma bros in Outkast would word it), and she is always supa-lovely and happy. So yep, become one of ma lil’ highlights of ma days, to see- and interact with this broad in da elevators… so naturally a crush developed. Images of her constantly Flickers in ma head-kinda-thang. Which is un ultra-nice aspect of ma ultra-exciting life. Anyhoo, was tellin’ ma boss-crush, (which happens to be ma boss, who I still have no chance in hell with… but hey, still coolio to have two crushes in the one building I spend most of ma days in FTWWW), about this amazing woman. I described both her-, and ma feelings towards her, and he goes, “C’MON lil’ gangsta – don’t you know who that is?” I responded, a bit perplexed, I must add, “NO.” I mean, sure she looked familiar in some ways, but just thought it’s cause she’s so lovely and beautiful and I felt as if we had some sort of connection, and that is why da good ol’ familiar feeling came creepin’ on unda ma wanna-be-in-da-sun-all-da-time-and-therefore-black-skin… Anyhoo, turns out she is Miss fucking Universe…!!!! In Sweden-town we only ever had three Miss Universes:

1955 – Hillevi Rombin

1966 – Margareta Arvidsson

1984 – Yvonne Ryding

So guess who ma Misses U is? Lucky #3 muttafukkas! And I belive there is an explanation to her ultra-supa-extraordinare-freshness – the secret to eternal youth perhaps perhaps – she now works with her own skincare line. What can I say, CLEARLY IT WORKS.

Apart from crushing ma crushes, I’ve also been crushin’ fruit in ma kitchen of late. Tonite when I got home I went on a mission to make massive amounts of smoothies, involving a bunch of fruit (duh). Basically lotsa celery, apples, kiwis etc., (won’t go into too much detail as this is no fucking food-blog – gangsta remember…!), but I must mention that it involved nothing less than 7 blood oranges and 7 regular oranges. I do believe the regular oranges were Spanish, not sure bout the origin of da blood ones.

To think of it, I kinda treat, and think of oranges the very same way I treat, and think of men. Don’t care much bout the origin – if they taste good I’m happy to put ‘em in ma mouth. Sometimes they may look a bit off… and then I usually politely refuse… or I still go for it, but then end up in an awkward spitting-out-situation, which is not healthy for anyone’s self-confidence, neither orange, nor man… also makes me feel a bit sicklish, so in general that is not something I’d recommend to maself, or anyone else for that matter. But ya, origin is neva an issue when it comes to me. To think of it, oranges and men do have lotsa things in common:

For one, there is the issue of seed(s), and there is also the fact that both oranges and men tend to smell very good, amongst a wide range of other shared attributes and qualities. Basically, I like oranges and men a lot, for many different, mutual reasons.

But alrite alrite, bit of a classic off-the-topic-scenario happening here… As you were: Fruit. So yeah, turns out I left my smoothie bottles, I need for ma smoothie machine, at work, so now ima stuck in a serious fruit-salad-gone-wrong-massacre in ma lil’ kitchen, (this funnily enough makes me think of one of ma ex hubbies, who strangely enough isn’t *Moroccan. We used to call him Fruity. Hens the ex-factor when it comes to him in particular). (*Even though I tend to not focus on origin of ma men and/or oranges, most of ma ex-hubbies are Moroccan, since I happened to marry a bunch of ‘em in less than 24 hours… blogged bout that one –  do yo homework homie).

But yes, plenty’o fruit in ma kitchen tonite, deffo some sorta party goin’ on. I should probs not be rude, and instead go on and join it, while it’s still fresh (if ima lucky it’ll be as fresh as ma Miss U).

For those of yos who’re into ellagangstaextensions, there’s a good one today, I will no doubt fall asleep pondering bout how I’d possibly be able to reveal all ma insecurities on ma tiny amounts of skin – not so much space, and epic amounts of inc is ,indeed, a challenge I must face one of these days.

Ultra-exciting life much? da peeps ask me from time to time. “Hellz yeah, ultra-exciting galore“, is ma humble response. Stay tuned.

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From da Gangsta’s Paradise to Big Bro to Celebrity Cook-Off (or how Coolio walked through da valley of da shadow of death)

ellagangstaextensions

ellagangstaextensions

So ya, it’s pretty fucking dark in da Swedo hood right ‘bout now. Sure we finally got some snow, but it’s still dark as hell most of da time, which kinda suits a gangsta in some ways. But in some ways it’s just not very much gangsta at all. So instead of discussing my climate disorder issues, I wanna talk bout anotha gangsta, who mos def has been going through some dark shit too. Da question of da mo is, what da hell happened to Coolio…. ? Ima sure ya’ll been pondering bout this one from time to time…lucky you, you got ellagangsta to tell it how it is – to yo FACE!

So after walking through da valley of da shadow of death, while takin’ a good ol’ look at his life, and realizing there was not much left, probs cause he’d been blastin’ and laughin’ so long, that even his mama thought his mind was gone, he decided it was time to make some changes. While makin’ these changes, he naturally did not cross one single man, or woman, who did not deserve it. No surprises there.

But ya, he was sick’n tired of being treated like a punk – clearly that treatment was not called for. So what did Mr CoolYo do? Yup, this G, da lil’ homies wanted to be like, decided to make an ultra-smart career move, (FYI, this is after he was dropped by Tommy Boy Records, and also managed to tattoo a misspelling on his precious skin), he basically got on his knees in da nite, while sayin’ prayers to da street lights. His prayers was answered and he got to be one of da house-homies on Celebrity Big Bro. This is obviously HUGE. And it was a great success, which resulted in him appearing on anotha Big Bro event, this time it was da ULTIMATE Big Bro.

However, this educated fool with money on his mind, could clearly not live a normal life, since he was raised by da strip, and ended up bein’ removed from da show, due to… WAIT FOR IT… Unacceptable behaviour towards peeps who just weren’t gangsta enough. The way things were goin’ at this late stage… I don’t know. But CoolYo knew, he had to be down with da hood team, and decided it was bout time to find out what was really goin’ on in da kitchen. He did not know what was cookin’, so he took matters into his own hands, and decided it was time to… WAIT FOR IT… cook! Yeyo, this G was no fool, next destination was a Celebrity Cook-Off. Turned out to be a great success, where he ended up bein’ the runner up, raising ten thousand dollars for charity. His menu featured a variety of dishes, mainly consisting of different versions of fried chicken. Some of them were perhaps a bit debatable, but regardless, great success.

Once finished with his fried chicken extravaganza, he still felt incomplete. It was like no one understood-, or could reach him. He felt he was outta luck and everyone was a fool.

Clearly no fool, as previously mentioned, he made the wise decision to appear on the renowned and respected show Wife Swap. Unfortunately his GF left him once the show was recorded… but hey, you win some, you lose some, right? Ain’t no thang for Mr CoolYO. After all, this G has achieved a lot, including producing 6 mini G’s from four diffo intercourse-ships, successfully bullriding a woman (is it just me, or WTF does that even mean???), punching a GF in da face & being charged for it, and appearing the epic show Sabrina the Teenage Witch.

Woah, I feel so much better right now. Who cares ‘bout da darkness…? Things could clearly be worse. Lovin’ ma ultra-exciting life. Stay tuned.

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Mother Mary and her divine intervention adventures (or how it’s very gangsta to mix glögg and Irish Coffee galore)

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So, having a blast at ma Danish Brossie X-mas galoreness. Lotsa amazing food & drinks together with ma fav Danish family. To use a bit of a christmassy expression, I’d like to say Ima feelin’ quite blessed. Hope ya’ll equally blessed at this very muchly festive season time of da year. As per usual I have something I’d like to raise some awareness about, ‘tis time of da year it’s quite a holy topic. YES. It’s not yo mother I’d like to talk about at this specific time of da mo, and it’s not mother T either. To put it simply, I wanna talk to yo ass bout Jesus’ mum. Yup. Mother Mary is of da essence right ‘bout now!

Apparently this woman, (Jesus’ mum, Mother of God, Saint Mary, Blessed Virgin Mary, JM (Jesus Mum duh), the holy Mother, the Mum of all Kings, the Mother of da Virgins, MG (Motha Gangsta AKA Motha Galore)… you get ma drift. As we say in Sweden town “Kärt barn har många namn” – which means a kid who’s popular/loved/liked carries lotsa names. Now, I’m aware that in this instance, Virgo Mary is referred to as a mum, not a child. But it’s important to remember that every mother was once a child. And that, my dear, is a FACT.

Have to start this off with a blast from da past. When ma bestie and I was 14, we were introduced to da idea of non-intercoursenal preggo stuff through a book. In this particular book a woman got preganant from eating a lingonberry. Ma bestie and I found this hilare, and laughed, even more than usual I must admit, and then laughed some more. Our whole class was outraged and left a, not so secret letter, in ma locker. Saying they’re outraged how immature we were etc. This, naturally, made us laugh some more. Don’t think ma tummy has ever been as tight as it was this week. I was FIT. Anyhoo, this mystery of divine interventions and virgin pregnancies is not only massive amounts of BS, but also, (as massive amounts of BS tends to be), quite interesting.

Recently read an article on da American Marys’ side of da whole thing. (YES, still pushing fo yo lazy ass to click on da ellagangstaextensions). Anyways, Mary (mother of Jesus) was obviously experiencing some miraculous conceivement, very much thanks to da power of da holey spirit. Big up to dat one I say. And, as it turns out, there are some Marys out there still today, (clearly no sperm in THOSE fringes, for some very obvious reasons… or?). Either way, turns out ONE in every TWOHUNDRED young American women have had their own lil’ divine interventions. Does this mean they all gave birth to a new Jesus me wonders? Very good, and hard to answer, question indeed, if I may say so maself. Perhaps it’ll be ma NY-resso to ponder about, and eventually hope to find an answer to it. Other questions this naturally calls for are:

–       Do we need another Jesus?

–       Can there be too many Jesuses?

–       Did Jesus exist?

–       Does Jesus exist?

–       How many Jesuses are there really?

–       What does Baby-Cheezes got to do with it?

–       What sort of BS/miracle is a virgin pregnancy really – is it, perhaps, the definition of BS? Or a true, Cheezes miracle?

–      And last, but very much not least, am I Jesus? And if so, is Virgin Motha Mary really a man – who can only get preggo divine interventio style due to his genetical challenges when it comes to carrying a Jesus-foetus?

So many questions, so lil’ time… gotta go back and play some more board games now. Ultra-exciting life is mos def virgo preggo. Party. Stay tuned.

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NO undies (or how I got inspired by Luis Suarez and finally scored)

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So, today Ima headin back to Danish land fo some Brossie Chrissie-good-times. Therefore I had to, yet again, get dat dirrrrttttay laundry clean one time. Fuck, even I’m gettin a bit bored with that one now…. So in true ellagangsta fashion I decided to spice it up one time, and this is what happened:

– Got home and took ma undies off

– Looked fo some good lookin’ meat in ma laundry room

– Spotted the one with da biggest … smile … and said “how u doin, Ima wearing NO undies”…

Turns out he was doin’ fine and da rest is history. So yep, I’m extra lucky today. If yo is feelin’ yo wanna score some fresh meat too, please follow above steps accordingly.

Now, more important matters at hand, it turns out ma blog has kinda sophisticated stats given to me, when I care to look at ’em. From these lil’ insights in how you read ma blog, there is one thing that particularly been bothering me of late. Let me explain, or rather ask yo in a perfectly fine gangsta-fashion; Why the fuck don’t you do yourself a favour and click on da amazing, groundbreaking, worth-yo-while, and always qualitative ellagangstaextensions???

Here is a lil’ sample of today’s ellagangstaextension…:

So apparently monster porn is kinda huge deal for all da sexually deprived fuckers out there. I don’t really get it, but big-selling titles such as “Bigfoot Did Me From Behinda and I Liked It“, “Alien Seed“, “The Horny Leprechaun“, “Cuckwolfed” and “At the Mercy of the Boar God” kinda speak for themselves. However, there is a twist to these bestiality-loving writers and their relationship with every self-publishers’ partner in crime, that partner being Amazon. You should mos def read this article, here’s a lil’ quote from one of the animal-sex writers, the rest? Just read it!

“It’s all a facade, of course. My plots are depraved. They’re definitely not for kids or grandmothers. But I put it in a glossy package, so it doesn’t offend anybody who’s just searching through Amazon.”

Ultra-exciting life galore galore galore. And you KNOW IT! Stay tuned.

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A fist in ma mouth (or how I bring da P to da Party)

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So, been a while. Plenty’o reasons for that one, but mainly thought ma blog was somewhat not an appropriate item in da wake of the passing of a legend and inspiration of our time. Considering he spent 28,42% of his life in prison, and still achieved what he did,,, yup. Not much to say. Glad he stayed around for as long as he did.

So YES, gotta lot to cover here, so gonna return to the “points-format” I efficiently tend to use in these situations. Ready? Here we go – ellagangsta style naturally:

–  There was a storm in Stockers this week, kinda nasty. Yup, “Sven” was creeping all ova da city, like an oldish, retardo force of nature. Hit ya in da face like… Hmmm, well, a real force. Much unlike Miley C. So ya. It also happened to be ma very much beloved father’s name-day. Swedish father I have. Naturally his name is Sven. No fucking surprises right there, (or anywhere to be honest). So this storm I had in ma face was named after ma dad, since the particular storm hit us at da exact same time last year. And last year, on the very same day, was also ma father’s name-day… WOAH. Epic huge galore coincidence? Or… Wait for it.. Wait fo it some more… No more waiting! Is da Swedish climate becoming as predictable as its habitants? Ugh. Very scary, boring thought. Predictable even when being unpredictable = boring.

–  Ok, some more funnish stuff. Had a party at work on Friday. Was some good times, and I DID indeed introduce ma homies to ma one and only state of the art party trick. YES. I did put ma fist in ma mouth. I think everyone had a great nite, and particularly enjoyed the segment where my fist was IN MA MOUTH. Epic hawtness right there fo sho.

– Met up with DA girl I met last week again (am I betting for the other team these days one may wonder?). And we went out to an extra shady hood part of Stockers – man, it was ROUGH to say the least – to this debatable party. It was a bit of a dangerous situation. But we did make it through, and had a blast, while barely surviving.

–  Also, some laundry action (gangsta or not, still live in Sweden town). For the record, I washed ma shower curtain today, so now ma ultra clean self will be even more ultra clean – FTWWW. Gangsta style no doubt.

–  Went to a skateboard competition yesterday, was fucking awesome. Haven’t been a part of that community for a while… and was pretty cool how time pretty much have been standing still. Everything was exactly the same. Loved it bt. Sweden’s got some amazing skating talent, fo sho.

–  Naturally I did put some sushi items in ma mouth on several occasions since I last communicated  with you, tonite was extra good, cause I went to da place where they have two diffo kinds of miso soup. #saynomore

–  Also, this one goes out to all yo pervs out there, it’s almost become custom, me blogging in bed. But keep in mind, I’m still in Sweden-town, and it’s freezing… so, hawt in all da pervie-wrong ways. Will keep you posted and let you know if I ever take ma clothes, including the double layers of socks, off, fo sho.

– Now I’m gonna go fall asleep, pondering bout why it is that Ludacris has absolutely no hoes in Swedish area codes. Swedish women have come a long way. Clearly.

Guess yo probs predicted Ima ultra-excited bout ma ultra-exciting life right bout now. A predictable fact/educated guess that’s da opposite to boring. Stay tuned.

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Think twice! (or how divorce is a biatch)

ellagangstaextensions

So, it’s been a bit quiet in ma hood last couple of days, well, perhaps not quiet, quite the opposite come to think of it. Quiet or not, shit is going down right now, consisting of me currently being in the process of processing 9 fucking divorces, (hope you remember the 9 marriages I managed to lock in, in the space of less than 24 hours, when I was in Marrakech). As if one would not be enough – of course I need to go and multiply that with 9…. PROCESS that mf’s! Yup, to say it’s a shit fight and a half is probs the understatement of a life time (I’ve attached an image to illustrate the way I feel on the inside right now)… anyhoo, it’s coming along ok I guess. Only prob is that ma fav, soon-to-be-ex, husband –the one I’ve mentioned previously, the 16 year old – is more of a complicated process, than da normal divorce process. Even though he said it’s ok for us to marry, despite his age, it turns out Ima not only his wife, but I’ve also become his legal guardian. Don’t ask me how I ended up in this situation, it was very hard to keep track of all these men and marriages at da time, so of course it’s easy to overlook the small print, so to speak, or in this case, quite literally. Today I’ve been using the Internet to communicate with his grandfather, two of his aunties, his older sister, three of his uncles and also a woman who’s close to da fam and specializes in henna applications… his mum refuses to speak to me. Not to be like that, but feel like she’s being a bit of a bitch about it all. But guess, it’s her youngest son, and it was his first marriage, and now his crying… so guess I’m not her fav person in da universe. But it’s not as if I don’t have feelings too, so I do feel she’s being a bit unfair to say the least. Who could’ve guessed this would end in misery… ?

But ya, main problem is the legal guardian situation, basically the ML, (Moroccan Law), states quite clearly, that in cases when women marry boys who are under the age of 18, they will become something called a legal guardian wife, and a legal guardian wife, will, in cases of divorce, still be responsible for the boy in question’s affairs. This is not to mixed up with sexual affairs, it’s more a case of bein’ lawfully invested with a bunch of power, camels and other debatable items, as well as charged with shitloads of obligations. Far from ideal. But let’s see, if there’s a will there’s a way, and I’m sure the both of us will be free from these obligations, powers etc in no time FTWWW, (while, of course, avoiding hurting any animals in da process) !!!

Hmm, apart from that, I do have some huge news. One of ma lifetime struggles have finally paid off and I’ve now advanced from bein’ a terrible at poker to bein’ awesome at poker!!! These are very exciting times indeed and I’m extra pumped bout this one. Last nite I met two girls in a club, we hit it off, and they joined me out to one of Stocker’s most extreme hoods, where we went to play poker with some gangstas I know through some shady relations I’ve pursued in da past. Anyways, rest is history, let’s just say our wins paid for the late nite gyros we consumed after the game, and more!

This ultra-exciting life is mine fo life! Stay tuned.

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How I infiltrated the Swedish police force… :

It was all very simple. I decided I was gonna sleep in a bed cupboard owned by a Swedish police officer. This is indeed a perfect, (and, might I add), very clever way of achieving Swedish police force infiltration galore. Naturally this involves receiving massive amounts of Swedish police documentation in THE mail (that’s right bitches, mail still exists – OFFLINE ). From time to time I’ll pick this documentation UP, and look at it – if that’s not infiltrating the Swedish police force, I don’t know what is?

All this Swedish-police-force-intelligence I receive in my mail, and into my brain while in my bed cupboard, is very much the opposite to the gangsta-hood I come from, and  in some ways I feel privileged, like I’ve been given a second chance – an amazing opportunity –  the opportunity to get outta da hood, to be a part of something bigger than me – bigger than all of us perhaps?

Thing is though, it’s fucking boring. Will give me a bad sleep at it’s best. So yup. I’ve decided to infiltrate less, and to just….. wait for it…. EXFILTRATE MORE!!! Also, here is an image of an amazing bonfire/firework sesh I went to tonight – good times had by all, to say the least (of course the Swedish police force showed up, no surprises there – I clearly know what they’re up to by now…). YUP, I have an ultra-exciting life. Stay tuned.

Bonfire-firework party?

A bonfire and fireworks = party.

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