I can be your hero baby,
I can kiss away the pain (Awww Yeah)
I would stand by you forever,
You can take my breath away
;) Love you Ryan

heyy r u a girl gamer? i just thought since ur name is stephani and ur pic is pink and animeye and stuff lolz im david 17 CA do u wana play something with me like minecaft or garys mod? its ok if u dnt kno how to play ill be there fore u and teaching u LOLz. wher r u from? i c u play skyrim do u like fantasea i.do too LOLz anyway my skype is roozbeh911 add me u know if u just wanna hang out or somethin xxx

Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!

I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I’m ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ retarded but I don’t care, I’m beautiful. I’m having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me “Apache” and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can’t accept me you’re a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.

This song is my favourite to mince to.
I put on my butt-less chaps, my stockings and suspenders, my leather studded waistcoat and leather police hat and I'm set.
Then I comb my handlebar moustache and rub a dab of cologne on my butt hole and the night is on.
I strut up the high street, this tune blaring from my 80s Walkman, and mince in time to the 4/4 majesty.
Shoulders popping, hips rolling, smile as wide as the line I hoofed up my left nostril, I'm floating on a wave of transcendent energy.
Pure and white as heat my eyes fracture into a trillion rainbows.
My hands become great lasers and I paint the sky in neon lines.
The sound always constant, turning my stomach inside out and punching my feet through the floor in relentless 4/4 time.
When the fog lifts and I return to rules and work and taxes and rain I sit with a puzzled look and my head weighs too much.
So sleep smoothes the edges...and waking is back to life.

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