Hey Rube: Blood Sport, the Bush Doctrine, and the Downward Spiral of Dumbness - Modern History from the Sports Desk

Hey Rube: Blood Sport, the Bush Doctrine, and the Downward Spiral of Dumbness - Modern History from the Sports Desk

4.8 12
by Hunter S. Thompson

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For decades, Hunter S. Thompson has galvanized American journalism with his acerbic wit, radical ideas, and gonzo tactics. He continues his reign as "The Unabomber of contemporary letters" (Time) with Hey Rube. Fear, greed, and action abound in this hilarious, thought-provoking compilation as Thompson doles out searing indictments and uproarious rants while

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For decades, Hunter S. Thompson has galvanized American journalism with his acerbic wit, radical ideas, and gonzo tactics. He continues his reign as "The Unabomber of contemporary letters" (Time) with Hey Rube. Fear, greed, and action abound in this hilarious, thought-provoking compilation as Thompson doles out searing indictments and uproarious rants while providing brilliant commentary on politics, sex, and sports -- at times all in the same column.

Filled with critics' favorites, as well as never before published columns, Hey Rube follows Thompson through the beginning of the new century, revealing his queasiness over the 2000 election ("rigged and fixed from the start"); his take on professional sports (to improve Major League Baseball "eliminate the pitcher"); and his myriad controversial opinions and brutally honest observations on issues plaguing America -- including the Bush administration and the inequities within the American judicial system.

Hey Rube gives us a look at the gonzo journalist in his most organic form -- unbridled, astute, and irreverent.

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Editorial Reviews

Jonathan Yardley
Beneath all the wild trappings of gonzo journalism, Thompson is a purist at heart. He is also "a Romantic by nature" with an acute memory: "My brain is covered with scar tissue. I was 22 when JFK was murdered, and I will never recover from it. . . . Never." That, make no mistake about it, is the real Hunter S. Thompson.
The Washington Post
Publishers Weekly
This collection of rants and reflections, taken from the king of gonzo journalism's new sports column at ESPN.com, displays an energy and humor lacking in some of his more recent collections and should please both his old and new fans enormously. Thompson has admitted being as much a sports fanatic as a political junkie, and these columns offer many hard-hitting but indisputable sportswriter insights, such as how a Sports Illustrated cover on Boston Red Sox star Nomar Garciaparra featured a "cynically homoerotic image." A sidebar on "New Rules for Baseball" ("Eliminate the Pitcher") is not only funny but also an astute critique of how boring he believes baseball has become. But Thompson never loses sight of his bigger picture: "The only true Blood Sport in this country is high-end Politics." His view of George Bush-"a half-bright football coach who goes into a big game without a Game Plan"-can sometimes be repetitious. But he hasn't lost his skill as a reporter: e.g., his description of the "exact moment" when he knew Gore would never win Florida-when the Bush family appeared on TV "hooting & sneering at the dumbness of the whole world" that they would let Florida slip away. (Aug.) Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Library Journal
Thompson, the gonzo king, might not be every reader's cup of tea. Some might take offense at his first-person references to sex, drugs, and sundry shady activities. Others might feel that their brains are inside a pinball machine as they try to track his scattergun flow of ideas. Readers wanting more tightly woven stories should try someone else, but Thompson can coin a phrase, as in his comparison of Presidents Clinton and Bush II: "Clinton was a congenitally Lewd man who is evil in a way that seems Charming; Bush is a charming man who was born Evil." As the latter suggests, this collection of Thompson's ESPN.com "sports" columns from November 2000 to late 2003 deals only tangentially with sports (and then most often in the context of gambling) and as much with politics and the author's own Weltanschauung. Thompson's fans will like it, though. Recommended for larger public libraries. Jim Burns, Jacksonville P.L., FL Copyright 2004 Reed Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
War and football have this in common, quoth the ascended master of gonzo journalism: "They are both profoundly violent and cruel and utterly unforgiving, and they both require public brutality by people wearing elaborate uniforms."Football has been much on the mind of the good Dr. Thompson (Kingdom of Fear, 2003, etc.) for decades, and especially now that he's reassumed his erstwhile role as sportswriter, this time for ESPN's Web site. ESPN is to be commended for bravery, even if its editors take pains in this collection of columns to distance themselves from Thompson's views-for, aside from his trademark championing of the use of adult beverages and pharmaceutical treats, he has also had war on his mind since the ascendancy of George W. Bush, whom Thompson calls "a baffled little creep" and worse. This is about sports in the same way Lolita is about sex: which is to say, not much and not often, and then mostly as an obsessive undercurrent in a discourse given over to other things. Sports fans should take interest nonetheless in Thompson's rants about the decline of the NFL ("There are too many teams and not enough quality players"), sportswriters ("a rude and brainless subculture of fascist drunks"), pitchers ("pampered little swine with too much money and no real effect on the game except to drag it out and interrupt the action"), and sundry other athletic topics. Thompson's real constituency, which may care little for events on the playing field, will revel in the same intemperance directed to matters set on a larger stage, ranging from war and its consequences ("American troops are killing journalists in a profoundly foreign country, for savage, greed-crazed reasons that most of themcouldn't explain or understand") to the surreal consequences of drug-fueled conversations with film celebrities, as with Thompson's weird fugue involving Sean Penn, a Saudi princess, and Homeland Security-a piece worth the price of admission all by itself. A treat for Thompson's many fans, though guaranteed not to earn him many admirers among the Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld believers. Agent: Andrew Wylie/Wylie Agency
From the Publisher
"Punctuated by moments of brilliant iconoclasm, as well as profound questions for our age."
San Francisco Chronicle

"Thompson is a genuinely unique figure in American journalism, a superb comic writer and a ferociously outspoken social and political critic."
The Washington Post

"You can't help but be glad that when it all hit the fan, Hunter S. Thompson was working the Sports Desk."
The New York Sun

"This compilation...has fear and loathing in it, of course, but beneath its ornery doomsday facade is a message of hope: What happens in the stadiums and field houses of America is probably beyond your control, but what happens in the city councils and statehouses is up to you."

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Product Details

Simon & Schuster
Publication date:
Product dimensions:
5.60(w) x 9.48(h) x 0.91(d)

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From Part One

The New Dumb

Something is happening here

But you don't know what it is

Do you, Mister Jones?

— Bob Dylan

No sir, not a chance. Mr. Jones does not even pretend to know what's happening in America Right now, and neither does anyone else.

We have seen weird Times in this country before, but the year 2000 is beginning to look super weird. This time there really is nobody flying the plane....We are living in dangerously weird times now. Smart people just shrug and admit they're dazed and confused. The only ones left with any confidence at all are the New Dumb. It is the beginning of the end of our world as we knew it. Doom is the operative ethic.

The autumn months are never a calm time in America. Back to Work, Back to Football Practice, etc....Autumn is a very Traditional period, a time of strong Rituals and the celebrating of strange annual holidays like Halloween and Satanism and the fateful Harvest Moon, which can have ominous implications for some people.

Autumn is always a time of Fear and Greed and Hoarding for the winter coming on. Debt collectors are active on old people and fleece the weak and helpless. They want to lay in enough cash to weather the known horrors of January and February. There is always a rash of kidnapping and abductions of schoolchildren in the football months. Preteens of both sexes are traditionally seized and grabbed off the streets by gangs of organized perverts who traditionally give them as Christmas gifts to each other to be personal sex slaves and playthings.

Most of these things are obviously Wrong and Evil and Ugly — but at least they are Traditional. They will happen. Your driveway will ice over, your furnace will blow up, and you will be rammed in traffic by an uninsured driver in a stolen car.

But what the hell? That's why we have Insurance, eh? And the Inevitability of these nightmares is what makes them so reassuring. Life will go on, for good or ill. But some things are forever, right? The structure may be a little Crooked, but the foundations are still strong and unshakable.

Ho ho. Think again, buster. Look around you. There is an eerie sense of Panic in the air, a silent Fear and uncertainty that comes with once-reliable faiths and truths and solid Institutions that are no longer safe to believe in....There is a Presidential Election, right on schedule, but somehow there is no President. A new Congress is elected, like always, but somehow there is no real Congress at all — not as we knew it, anyway, and whatever passes for Congress will be as helpless and weak as whoever has to pass for the "New President."

In the world of sports, it is like playing a Super Bowl that goes into 19 scoreless Overtimes and never actually Ends...or four LA Lakers stars being murdered in different cities on the same day. Guaranteed Fear and Loathing. Abandon all hope. Prepare for the Weirdness. Get familiar with Cannibalism.

Good luck,


— November 20, 2000

The Fix Is In

Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it.

I have never believed much in luck, and my sense of humor has tended to walk on the dark side. Muhammad Ali, one of my very few heroes, once took the time to explain to me that "there are no jokes. The truth is the funniest joke of all."

Ho ho. It takes a special kind of mind-set to believe that & still have smart people call you Funny. I have never quite understood it.

— Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in America

This eerie Presidential election has been a painful experience for Gamblers. Almost everybody Lost. The many, many Losers don't feel the pain yet, because they are still in Shock & Denial. There are rumors in Washington that Gore's most trusted advisors have sealed him off so completely that he still firmly believes he Won....Which is True, on some scorecards, but so what? Those cards don't count....George Bush is our President now, and you better start getting used to it. He didn't actually steal the White House from Al Gore, he just brutally Wrested it away from him in the darkness of one swampy Florida night. Gore got mugged, and the local Cops don't give a damn.

Ho ho ho. Where the fuck did he think he was — in some friendly Civics class? Hell no, he was in Florida, arguably the most vicious & corrupt state in the Union....Not only that, but he was brazenly invading Florida, trying to steal it from right under the noses of the whole Bush family. It was a bold move & brilliantly done, in some ways — but then so was Lee's brave decision to invade the North & attack Gettysburg.

Gore was Doomed in Florida, and he knew it about halfway through Election Night. The TV wizards had already given the state & its 25 precious Electoral Votes to Gore, which gave him an early lead & caused wild rejoicing in Democratic headquarters all over the country.

My own immediate reaction was bafflement & surprise, and I think I almost believed it....But not really. The more I brooded on it, the more I was troubled by waves of Queasiness & shudders of gnawing doubt. I felt nervous & vaguely confused, as if I had just heard a dog speak perfect English for 30 or 40 seconds. That will get your attention, for sure....Some people get permanently destabilized by it: Nothing they see with their own eyes will ever look quite the same to them again. As in "I know that the object I'm looking at is an Egg — but I also know that if it talks to me like a person, it is not an Egg."

There was an exact moment, in fact, when I knew Al Gore would Never be President of the United States, no matter what the TV networks said — and that moment was when the whole Bush family suddenly appeared on TV and openly scoffed at the idea of Gore's winning Florida. It was Nonsense, said the Candidate, Utter nonsense....Anybody who believed he'd lost Florida was a Fool. The Media, all of them, were Liars & Dunces or treacherous whores trying to sabotage his victory. They were strong words and people said he was Bluffing. But I knew better. Of course Bush would win Florida. Losing was out of the question. Here was the whole bloody Family laughing & hooting & sneering at the dumbness of the whole world on National TV.

The old man was the real tip-off. The leer on his face was almost frightening. It was like looking into the eyes of a tall hyena with a living sheep in its mouth. The sheep's fate was sealed, and so was Al Gore's....Everything since then has been political flotsam & gibberish.

The whole Presidential election, in fact, was rigged and fixed from the start. It was a gigantic Media Event, scripted & staged for TV. It happens every four years, at an ever-increasing cost, & 90 percent of the money always goes for TV commercials. Of course, nobody would give a damn except politics is beginning to smell like professional football, Dank & Nasty. And that's a problem that could haunt America a lot longer than four years, folks.

I am watching more NFL football this year but enjoying it less and less. There is something wrong with the game, something vital is missing, but I can't quite say what it is. No weekend goes by without at least one wild & exciting game, plus one or two shocking upsets — but somehow they all seem vaguely meaningless, like watered-down wine or weak whiskey.

I thought I had solved all my problems when I found a way to watch every game, every Sunday, all at once or separately. I had everything, right at my fingertips. I missed nothing. My friends called me "toggle-boy" because of my expertise with the channel switcher. They dropped by every Sunday to drink & mooch & gamble. It was like an impossible dream come true. Fred Exley would have loved it.

But still there was something wrong. Even reading the Sports section began to give me a queasy feeling. I came to secretly dread the coming of Sunday, although I never admitted that to anybody. It was too weird.

Only after long brooding & extended medical analysis did I discover the obvious answer. It is the dangerous thinning of the NFL talent pool, a problem not totally unknown to the world of presidential politics. There are too many teams and not enough quality players. The League is destroying quarterbacks faster than colleges can churn them out. Every pro team must have two quarterbacks, because one of them is certain to get crippled or mashed by some steroid-crazed monster who weighs 388 pounds and runs faster than Deion Sanders and is desperate to hurt people. He will lose his job if he doesn't, and his obvious target is the Quarterback.

There may be Parity in the NFL these days, but it is the same kind of parity that you find at bush league Racetracks and Arena Football League games. The next MVP of the Super Bowl is just as likely to have been a full-time grocery store bagger last year as a Heisman Trophy winner. The teams change names & locations every year. Even winning coaches go crazy with angst or get fired on the whim of a new owner. Players come & go like substitute teachers or half-bright fashion models. Some beat their wives in public, and others get arrested for Murder. But the games go on like clockwork and the money keeps pouring in....Most stadiums are sold out every Sunday. But only rich people can afford to attend the games in person. It's not much different from getting involved in National Politics.

— November 27, 2000

Welcome to Generation Z

I have been overwhelmed by the massive response to my sheepish confession, last week, that my lifelong passion for the ceremonial watching of pro Football on TV is not quite as keen this year as it has been. At first I felt vaguely ashamed to admit this, especially in print — but within hours of the thing's (delayed) appearance on Page 2, I was deluged with messages from people who Agreed with me and said they'd been feeling guilty about it but were afraid to say the words.

The NFL's TV ratings seem to be dropping about 10 percent a year for at least the last five, which has not deterred the networks from paying more and more for broadcast rights and charging more and more for Super Bowl commercials. They figure they are breeding a whole new Generation of football fans by getting the teenage beer drunkards hooked early — and after that they will be loyal lifetime rabid fans, just like me.

Ho ho. I have no more loyalty to Pro football than I do to the Democratic Party. And neither do these whooping babbling nerds that appear in Beer commercials. They would barely even notice if the Green Bay Packers were bought by Arabs and moved to Palm Beach. Or Kuwait.

This kind of faithless fan base is a disaster waiting to happen. Like they say in Politics, "It's a mile wide and an inch deep."

Jesus, and we wonder why the Election turned out so weird. The Pollsters knew nothing, because the people they talked to lied to them. Nobody wants to talk to a fucking Pollster, anyway. They are Vermin. And they are getting paid to harass you with questions, but you're not getting a dime for it. You're not even getting on TV.

It was obvious from the start of this doomed 2000 election that nobody in America except a few Rich people gave a hoot in hell about who won — but why should they have to admit it in public and look Dumb?...No, they would Lie & Lie & Lie — and then they would flip a coin. Why not? It's fair, and nobody will ever know, for sure anyway.

That's why this goddamn useless Election ended in a Tie. A million consecutive coin flips will give you a 50-50 split every time....Which raises the sickening question of What are the NFL's real TV ratings each week? What if half the people watching the games out of habit don't really give a flying fuck who wins the game? That would be the end of Pro Football as we know it — No ratings, no commercials, no TV, & no money. You will be forced to watch Wrestling, Figure Skating, & Golf on Sunday afternoons. Good luck.

December is always a good month for Rich people. It is a time for profit taking & gross displays of wealth, for giving huge Rubies & Diamonds to each other at bogus Charity Balls, & for seeing themselves on the covers of their own magazines....The year 2000 will be branded in history as "the year of the Doomed Election," which caused Millions of Americans to question themselves & suffer Loss of Self-Esteem for seemingly unexplainable reasons.

The beginning of the new century will also be marked in history as the quasi-official birth of what will come to be known as Generation Z....Never mind the gibberish of Mystics & Astrologers; this is the Generation that was born into the Richest Economy in the history of the world. They were born rich & Powerful, the certified Aristocrats of a new & Amazing century.

The American nation is more Dominant now than primitive American leaders like Harry Truman & Richard Nixon ever dreamed of. We are Number One. Nobody argues. We have dollars, we have bombs, & we have the Will to use them.

Let's get back to Generation Z & its Lush & Extravagant birthright in this year of Our Lord 2000....It may be a Mixed blessing to be hatched at the top of the Heap. Indeed. The Stock Market might crash, crazed Muslim terrorists might put Nerve Gas or Anthrax in your drinking water, Your daughter might get Rabies or turn into a famous Porno slut with two Junkie boyfriends who will Hack into your secret Computer Code & loot your Bank Accounts....But these are Uptown Problems, for sure, compared to being born in a Great Depression or forced to join a Hitler Youth Brigade at the end of WW2. Nobody is ever going to feel sorry for the gilded little sots of Generation Z.

Swine of the Week

Swine of the Week is always a difficult choice, but this first one is an obvious No-Brainer for lame-duck VP Al Gore Jr. & his whole lame family, formerly of Tennessee & Washington, DC, & soon to be listed prominently as "Homeless/No Known Address." Gore will be remembered as the Hapless, worm-eaten Dunce who fumbled the White House away to a gang of sleazy Oilmongers from Texas who promised nothing for sure except a collapsing Market & heavy punishment for any degenerate fool who indulges in Oral Sex on U.S. government property. Al Gore defied all known Trends, Odds, & laws of Probability by running for President as co-architect of the greatest prosperity in American history & still Losing.

The chance of that happening is as close to a Mathematical Impossibility as the chance of a Presidential Election ending in a Tie — or, for that matter, a sitting President & Leader of the Free World getting thrown out of office for enjoying the mouth of a woman....Jesus, and we rave & rant about the Taliban for making their women wear veils.

Sodomy is still a felony crime in the state of Virginia, which includes all the leafy, high-dollar suburbs just across the Potomac River from Washington. This is where poor Marv Albert got busted for allowing his love-bites to get out of control. His passion was too pure, they said, so they took him off NBA games for a while....Georgia is another state where you can still go to prison for Sodomy, even when enjoyed in the privacy of your own bedroom.

— December 4, 2000

The White House Disease

The incredible dumbness of Sportswriters is a subject I thought I'd exhausted a long time ago — but let's hit it one more time, just for the fun of it....I have described them as "a rude & brainless subculture of fascist drunks" and "a gang of vicious monkeys jacking off in a zoo cage" and "more disgusting by nature than maggots oozing out of the carcass of a dead animal...."

But they keep coming back for more, like pimps & real estate agents, & on days like this I run out of patience....I have explained many times that I am, by Profession, a Gambler — not some jock-sniffing nerd or a hired human squawk box with the brain of a one-celled animal. No. That would be your average career sportswriter — and, more specifically, a full-time Baseball writer.

Okay, how's that for Rudeness? I can Play in this league. I don't like it, but when my own editors at ESPN start asking me to get outraged about the Huge Salaries being paid these days to Baseball Pitchers — instead of the truly Insane high-stakes Gambling that is going on right now in our national Political Arena — I know how Thomas Jefferson felt when he said, "I fear for the fate of my country when I reflect that God is Just."

As for Pitchers, they are as useless as tits on a boar hog & should all be put to sleep. Baseball's only hope for survival is the elimination of the "pitcher" position completely. See below.

The cure for White House Disease is not so simple. It is like a combination of Blue balls & malaria, an interminable Fever that is always Incurable & often Fatal. The symptoms are blindness, freezing, sweating, weeping, & delusions of suffering beyond Death.

Let's face it: The only true Blood Sport in this country is high-end Politics. You can dabble in Sports or the Stock Markets, but when you start lusting after the White House, The Joke is Over. These are the real Gamblers, & there is nothing they won't do to win.

Nothing involving jockstraps or sports bras will ever come close to it for drama, violence, savagery, & overweaning lust for the spoils of victory....The Presidency of the United States is the richest & most powerful prize in the history of the World. The difference between winning the Super Bowl & winning the White House is the difference between a Goldfish & a vault full of Gold bars.

The very heart of the American electoral system now seems to be cracking....This is like a Super Bowl that goes into 99 scoreless overtimes, or a night when the sun never sets. Even Congress is preparing for Trench Warfare: the GOP leadership is now daring Clinton to try to pass a Spending Bill before the year ends. Blocking the bill would paralyze the Nation & prevent all payments for anything by the Federal Government. The moment is reminiscent of Political events that occurred just before the start of the Civil War....Beware. There may be no Super Bowl this year.

It is no accident that this vicious mess has come to a head in Florida. I know the state well. Florida has been very good to me in many wild & beautiful ways that still make my whole body hum when I think about them....I know Tallahassee & I know Palm Beach. I have run amok in Naples & suffered terrible boat crashes in the waters off Miami & the treacherous channels of Key West....I have run aground at midnight on sandbars far out in the ocean; I have lost control of my boat in many posh marinas & been rescued at sea by the Coast Guard so often that they came to recognize my voice on the shortwave radio. I have known great happiness in Florida & I still have a certain love for it.

But I also know it to be the most corrupt & profoundly degenerate state in the Union. So many of its elected officials are so openly For Sale that politics in Florida is more like an auction than a democratic process. Its Congressmen have been jailed for Felony Fraud, & its Senators have routinely committed more heinous crimes than Richard Nixon was ever accused of....More murders & rapes go unreported in Florida each year than in Corsica & Sicily combined. The state has no Income Tax & essentially no Law. Its cities are ruled by Depraved sots and its Universities are snake pits of cheating & random sex in Public. The libraries are filled with Beer Drunkards looking for Skull sessions & beautiful girls who are proud & Eager to oblige them. Oral sex is more common on the streets of Miami in the daylight hours than anywhere else in America.

Rude people will now & then ask me why I think I know so much about Politics & I tell them it's because I'm Smart....But that is a lie: the real reason is that I'm an incurable Gambling addict.

The gambling habit is no different from any other acquired addiction (Crack, Nicotine, Flogging, Lying, etc.) in that there are always two (2) very different types of addicts: the User & the Binger. The binge gambler is doomed from the start & so is a binge Flogger, like the infamous Marquis de Sade....The Marquis was a Multi-Addict, & he took his flogging vice too far.

It was not the Vice but the Binge that destroyed him. The history of the Time suggests that if de Sade had learned Moderation — if he could have kept his brutal Floggings down to one or two a week, even three — the cops might have left him alone. But no, the Marquis wouldn't listen, so his legacy was to go down as the most Vicious Pervert in history.

Al Gore will not be so lucky. At least people are still interested in de Sade's crazed excesses, but nobody will ever care about the fate of Al Gore. He will forever be known as "the Loser" of the doomed 2000 Election. He was Wrong from the Start, & he will be happy to get out of Electoral politics, & Bush is an Unhappy winner. He will be beaten like a rat in a wastebasket & he will age 14 years in the next Four.

The Bush family has already Corrupted the Presidency & the U.S. Supreme Court. Millions of Americans will never again be Confident that their vote will be counted in any election.

It is not just the state of Florida & its whole voting Process that got exposed as Corrupt & Fraudulent in the past 30 days. The ugly truth is that this same horrible mess could have happened in any other place, from Bangor to Honolulu — and the result would have been the same....All we need now is the squalid Spectacle of Jeb Bush on TV, saying, "I am Not a Crook."

— December 2, 2000

Copyright © 2004 by Gonzo International Corp.

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Hey Rube: Blood Sport, the Bush Doctrine, and the Downward Spiral of Dumbness - Modern History from the Sports Desk 4.5 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 11 reviews.
Guest More than 1 year ago
You gotta love this guy. I mean, he really is THE only one to tell it like it is. What a set! No, this isn¿t by any stretch of the imagination ¿Fear and Loathing¿ or any of his other great, great works, but come on! This is still really first-rate stuff. I discovered the author after going through all the Salinger, Bukowski, Jackson McCrae, and others, and have to say, he¿s top of the heap. A great compilation.
Guest More than 1 year ago
The worst hst ever. The wedding must have been expense for this to go to press. I will sell my once read copy for cheap.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
U might like
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Leader and deputy den.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Loved this book. Chronicles articles written for sports illistrated by Hunter however had less to do with sports and more to do with social commentary. Perfect read for those looking to peak into the mad genius of the late great Hunter S.
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Hey im here
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Oh okay then it was a fake person. Thats annoying.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I do.