11.18.2005
I love Raven Symone, I really do. When I was in the eighth grade I had the pleasure of meeting her in person after she performed in the play "Mama We Ran Outta Grits Again" (or something like that) in Jacksonville, Florida. She was the most down to earth celebrity I have met so far. She was very sweet to me as she autographed my program which I still have to this day.
As the picture of her slowly started to load (my pc has a nasty STD) I thought to myself that her hair and make up looked great. And then the picture finally completed and my facial expression went straight into gas face territory. Why is Raven shopping out of Miss Cleo's closet?
Racheal Roy scares the shit out of me. Why is she always so damn happy? Seriously, this broad makes me nervous. Poor Dame, its no wonder why he has been losing his mind lately. I would too if I had to be around her ass all the time. Whenever I see the two of them together it makes me sad. Sad like when I lost my $.65 slushie money in the third grade. The only thing I am feeling is her accessories. She probably uses that bag to keep Dame's meds in.
Finally we have Tichina Arnold. Tichina will always be "Pam" in my mind. She is another case of good black don't crack and I love that about her. But that doesn't mean that she can get away with letting her ninnies hang down low (I'll give three hundred dollars in Dash Cash to whoever can tell me what song was from). Besides the titties everything looks great.
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Use don't abuse (ie. adding me to your site's mailing list). And for the love of God please stop sending mp3 files of your music. I am not Clive Davis and to be frank I probably don't want to hear the shit anyway. You should also know that I take my slow, precious time responding to email. And sometimes I don't respond at all. Fresh.crunkjuice@gmail.com
Fresh@myspace.com
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