Rock, Cardboard, Scissors

I am the rock in rock paper scissors.  Rock beats everything.  Rock crushes scissors and it bust right through paper.  Paper is no match for rock!  If you ever play with me I will always be rock and you will NEVER beat me.  You may think you beat me, but instead you will listen to me go on and on about flimsy little girly-mon paper!

Who even made up that stupid game?  Paper covers rock?  In paper’s dreams!

Rock, Cardboard, Scissors, now that I can see.

Speaking of rock, I am totally obsessed with this game ‘Rock Band’ on Xbox.  I am soooo not a video game person but this video game has a microphone.  I am pretty much Ms. Popular on the ‘Rock Band’ circuit because even though I sing like maybe a goat sounds or something, I am able to hit all the notes.  I am in 3 bands and I have a solo career.  My rocker is named Zora and she totally looks like a crackhead.  I did that on purpose because if I wanted to be wholesome I would play some lame game like ‘Singing in his name’ which is a name I just made up about a game for people who want to have a Christian rock band (yo! I capitalized Christian so I’m not going to hell).  On ‘Rock Band’ you buy skanky stripper clothes and tattoos, but on ‘Singing in his name’ (c) (yeah, I just copyrighted it b/c if you make something up about Jesus they let you copyright it super fast-like) so, on that game you buy different goatees and crosses and you can buy piercings but only for your ears b/c you are trying to sound like a real rock band but you are still a Christian band so no Prince Alberts.  You can have long hair on ‘Singing in his name’ too b/c Jesus did.  Well, at least back when he and I were road dawgs he did.  He may have cleaned up his act now.  Anyways, Zora rocks and I am living vicariously through her.  I even left a kegorator, pool, and BBQ to go home and play rock band and the peeps I played with ended up sucking so it was a waste b/c when I wanna rock I wanna rock with some people in my league. 

Suck it spellcheck, kegorator is a word. 


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