Shrink Rap (Sunny Randall Series #3)

( 46 )

Overview

Sunny Randall is hired to protect a bestselling novelist from her ex-husband. He's not only a stalker...he's a shrink. And when Sunny becomes his patient, she discovers as much about herself as she does about the criminal mind...

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Shrink Rap (Sunny Randall Series #3)

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Overview

Sunny Randall is hired to protect a bestselling novelist from her ex-husband. He's not only a stalker...he's a shrink. And when Sunny becomes his patient, she discovers as much about herself as she does about the criminal mind...

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
The Barnes & Noble Review
The third outing for Robert B. Parker's female private eye, Sunny Randall, is indeed a charm -- provided your idea of charm is a three-dimensional heroine, expertly barbed dialogue, shrewdly sculpted suspense, and some lightly tossed jabs at the publishing world. Sunny -- a cross between the author's two other series protagonists, the wisecracking P.I. Spenser (Widow's Walk) and the somber police chief Jesse Stone (Death in Paradise) -- is hired to protect bestselling romance author Melanie Joan Hall from her domineering ex-husband during a national book tour. When Sunny investigates Mr. Wrong -- prominent psychiatrist Dr. John Melvin -- and learns he may be molesting several of his female clients, she goes undercover as a patient. It's a risky move; as she discovers, Melvin's manipulative analytical skills hold a powerful sway, especially where the unresolved relationship with her own ex-husband, Richie, is concerned. The thoughtful and intense "shrink rap" here between Sunny and the two sounding boards -- Melvin and Hall -- is put to excellent use as Sunny's lifestyle and personal family life is explored from the inside out. As usual, Parker manages to balance suspense and violence with keen psychological acumen. Powered by an intense character portrait that will leave the reader enlightened and moved, and a humorous milieu that deftly undercuts the serious nature of the novel's themes, Parker turns in another cunningly crafted story that transcends the standard P.I. fare and strikes an unforgettable, resonant chord. Tom Piccirilli
People
This 37th mystery from Parker zips by more quickly than a 50-minute hour on the couch.
Publishers Weekly
As if responding to his new status as an MWA Grand Master, Parker turns in his strongest mystery in years with Boston PI Sunny Randall's third outing (after Family Honor and Perish Twice), a particular relief after this spring's flaccid Spenser offering, Widow's Walk. The setup lacks originality Sunny is hired to bodyguard a bestselling author, Melanie Joan Hall, who pens "high-end bodice rippers," just as years ago in Stardust, Spenser was hired to bodyguard a famous TV newscaster but by focusing on an author's plight during her book tour, Parker writes about experiences close to his own, delivering sharp portraits of publishing types and fans. Melanie Joan's former husband, John Melvin, a psychopathic psychiatrist, is stalking her. To learn about and discredit him, Sunny consults another psychiatrist, then enters incognito into therapy with Melvin, which adds tremendous resonance to the narrative as, inadvertently, she must confront her own neuroses during sessions, complexes involving her relationships with her parents and estranged husband. Soon Sunny sniffs out that Melvin has been raping and, occasionally, killing members of his all-female clientele by injecting them with a date rape drug. To nab Melvin, she submits to his using the drug on her, in an intense finale. With layers of psychological revelation, plenty of action, the welcome return of Sunny's supporting crew (most notably Spike, a gay counterpart to Spenser's Hawk) and, as usual, prose as tight as a drumhead, this is grade-A Parker. Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
Mystery Grand Master Parker delivers another fun read in his third Sunny Randall novel (after Perish Twice and Family Honor). Romance novelist Melanie Joan Hall needs help. She is about to start a book tour but is frightened of her ex-husband, psychiatrist John Melvin, who is stalking her. P.I. Sunny Randall, also divorced and with her own problems never far from her mind, is hired to be her bodyguard. Melvin's clients are all wealthy women, and no one wants to talk about what he does with them, not even when two wind up dead under suspicious circumstances. To find out what Melvin's up to, Sunny disguises herself and becomes his patient, putting herself in harm's way while probing the secret recesses of her own psyche. This is a novel of sly wit (evident also in the title), heavy on dialog and short on descriptive or narrative prose. But the effect is to hurtle the reader toward the climax, with a fine sense of ever-increasing danger. Fans will enjoy the crisp dialog, Sunny's investigations of her mind, and the matching of wits with a truly frightening villain. Highly recommended for all mystery collections. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 5/1/02.] Ronnie H. Terpening, Univ. of Arizona, Tucson Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
Not even a first printing of 750,000 and a ten-city tour can protect romance novelist Melanie Joan Hall from John Melvin, MD, the ex-husband who's stalking her, harassing her at a signing in Cleveland and leaving bloody smears on a window in Cincinnati. But money and her publisher's solicitude for a $10-million property about to become a movie franchise can buy Melanie Joan some quality time with Sunny Randall, despite Sunny's insistence that "I'm not really suited to bodyguard anyway. I'm a detective." Well, maybe, but she actually thinks like a proactive avenger. When the women return to Boston, Sunny decides that it's not enough to protect her client from a menace that could go on forever; she needs to dig up something on Melvin, a psychiatrist whose practice seems limited to attractive women, that will put him away throughout Melanie Joan's peak earning years. Unfortunately, one of the good doctor's clients she approaches has just died; a second soon follows; and Melvin's male friends respond to Sunny's inquiries-framed in Parker's trademark killer dialogue-by sending her threatening photos and painting her windshield black. The only way to get the goods on Melvin is to stake herself out as bait; but Sunny, who let men do the heavy lifting for her in Perish Twice (2000), frets endlessly whether she should accept help from her own ex, mobbed-up Richie Burke, on this dangerous assignment. Despite Sandy's profession, none of her adventures has been marketed as a mystery. Good thinking. File her third under self-help.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780425239636
  • Publisher: Penguin Group (USA) Incorporated
  • Publication date: 5/7/2010
  • Series: Sunny Randall Series , #3
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 352
  • Sales rank: 276,304
  • Product dimensions: 4.20 (w) x 6.70 (h) x 1.10 (d)

Meet the Author

Robert B. Parker was the author of seventy books, including the legendary Spenser detective series, the novels featuring Police Chief Jesse Stone, and the acclaimed Virgil Cole-Everett Hitch westerns, as well as the Sunny Randall novels. Winner of the Mystery Writers of America Grand Master Award and long considered the undisputed dean of American crime fiction, he died in January 2010.

Robert B. Parker was the author of more than fifty books. He died in January 2010.

Biography

Robert B. Parker began as a student of hard-boiled crime writers such as Dashiell Hammett and Raymond Chandler, but when he became a crime writer himself, he was one of the rare contemporary authors to be considered on par with his predecessors. The Spenser series, featuring a Boston-based ex-boxer and ex-cop, is one of the genre's most respected and popular fixtures.

Noted for their sharp dialogue and fine character development, the Spenser books carry on a tradition while updating it, particularly in giving its hero two strong alter egos in Hawk, a black friend and right-hand man; and Susan Silverman, Spenser's psychologist love interest. Parker's inclusion of other races and sexual persuasions (several of his novels feature gay characters, a sensibility strengthened in Parker through his sons, both of whom are gay) give a more modern feel to the cases coming into Spenser's office.

The Spenser series, which began with 1973's The Godwulf Manuscript, has an element of toughness that suits its Boston milieu; but it delves just as often into the complex relationship between Silverman and Spenser, and the interplay between the P.I. and Hawk.

By the late ‘80s, Parker had acquired such a reputation that the agent for Raymond Chandler's estate tapped him to finish the legend's last book, Poodle Springs. It was a thankless mission bound to earn criticism, but Parker carried off the task well, thanks to his gift for to-the-point writing and deft plotting. "Parker isn't, even here, the writer Chandler was, but he's not a sentimentalist, and he darkens and deepens Marlowe," the Atlantic concluded. In 1991, Parker took a second crack at Chandler with the Big Sleep sequel Perchance to Dream.

Parker took other detours from Spenser over the years. In 1999, Family Honor introduced Sunny Randall, a female Boston private eye Parker created with actress Helen Hunt in mind. Two years earlier, he introduced L.A.-to-New England cop transplant Jesse Stone in Night Passage. He also authored four bestselling Westerns featuring Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch, a few young adult books, as well as several stand-alone novels that were well-received by his many fans.

Parker died suddenly in January 2010 while at home at his desk, working on a book. The cause was a heart attack. He was seventy-seven.

Good To Know

Parker's thesis in graduate school was a study of the private eye in literature that centered on Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett and Ross MacDonald. Critics would later put him in the same category as those authors.

Parker's main hero is named for Edmund Spenser, the 16th-century author of The Faerie Queene.

Parker had a hand in writing the scripts for some television adaptations of Spenser books starring Robert Urich, who also played Spenser in the ABC series from 1985-88. Urich suffered a battle with cancer and passed away in 2002, but adaptations continue to be made for A&E, starring Joe Mantegna. Parker approved of the new actor, telling the New York Times: ''I looked at Joe and I saw Spenser."

According to a profile in the New York Times, Parker met his wife Joan when the two were toddlers at a birthday party. The two reconnected as freshmen at Colby College and eventually had two sons. They credit the survival of their marriage to a house split into separate living spaces, so that the two can enjoy more independent lives than your average husband and wife.

Parker told fans in a 1999 Barnes & Noble.com chat that he thought his non-series historical novel All Our Yesterdays was "the best thing I've ever written."

Parker had a small speaking part in the 1997 A&E adaptation of Small Vices. How does he have time to write his Spenser books, plus the other series and the adaptation stuff? "Keep in mind, it takes me four or five months to write a novel, which leaves me a lot of time the rest of the year," he told Book magazine. "I don't like to hang around."

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    1. Date of Birth:
      September 17, 1932
    2. Place of Birth:
      Springfield, Massachusetts
    1. Date of Death:
      January 18, 2010
    2. Place of Death:
      Cambridge, Massachusetts
    1. Education:
      B.A. in English, Colby College, 1954; M.A., Ph. D. in English, Boston University, 1957, 1971
    2. Website:

Read an Excerpt

I ALWAYS LOVED Richie's hands. They looked like such man's hands. I knew that I was guilty of gross gender stereotyping, but I kept my mouth shut about it, and no one knew. His hands rested on the table between us, the right one on top of the left. They were still. Richie was always still. It was one of the things that had made it hard to be married to him. I knew intellectually that he loved me, but he was so contained and interior that I used to crave even the most unseemly display of feeling. He was still now, sitting across the table from me, telling me he'd met someone else. We were divorced. It was fine for him to see other people. I saw other people too. But this was a somebody else he'd met. This was more than seeing other people. This made me feel like my center had collapsed.

"Somebody, like walk into the sunset?" I said.

"She wants to get married," Richie said. "She has a right to that."

"And you?"

Richie shrugged. "I'm thinking about it."

"Three kids and a house in the western suburbs?"

"We haven't talked about that," Richie said.

"What about Rosie?" I said.

"She likes dogs."

I looked at the hamburger I had ordered. I didn't want it.

"Rosie would still want to visit," I said.

"I love Rosie," Richie said.

"Has Ms. Right met her?" I said.

"Yes."

"They get along?"

"Very well," Richie said. "Rosie loves her."

She does not.

"Rosie will remain my dog," I said.

Richie smiled at me. "We're not going to have a custody fight over a goddamn bull terrier, are we?"

"Not as long as we remember she's mine."

"She's ours," Richie said.

"But not hers."

"No. Mine and yours," Richie said. "She lives with you and visits me."

I nodded. Richie was quiet.

"How long have you been seeing Ms. Right?" I said.

"About three months."

"Three months."

Richie nodded.

"You're sleeping with her," I said.

"Of course."

"Do you love Ms. Right?" I said.

"Her name is Carrie."

"Do you love Carrie?"

"I don't know."

"And how are you going to find out?" I said.

"I don't know."

Richie had ordered a club sandwich, on whole wheat, toasted. He hadn't eaten any of it. The waitress stopped at our table.

"Is everything all right?" she said.

"Fine," Richie said.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No," Richie said. "Check will be fine."

"Do you want me to have your food wrapped?" the waitress said.

"No thank you," Richie said.

The waitress looked at me. I shook my head. She put a check on the table and went away looking regretful. Richie and I looked at each other.

"Whaddya think?" he said.

I shook my head.

"I know," Richie said.

He looked at the check and took some bills out of his wallet and put them on the table.

"The thing is," he said, "I can't get past you."

"Oh?"

"I mean, we're sort of spinning our wheels."

"You could call it that," I said.

"I mean this is a nice woman, and she's happy with who and what I am."

I nodded.

"But I can't get past you," Richie said.

"I face somewhat the same problem," I said.

"We need some kind of resolution, Sunny."

"I thought the divorce was supposed to be some kind of resolution," I said.

Richie smiled quietly. "I did too," he said.

"But it wasn't," I said.

"No. It wasn't."

"So what are we supposed to do?" I said.

"I'm serious about this woman."

I nodded. It was difficult for me to speak. The room around me seemed insubstantial, as if I were drifting in space.

"But," he said, "I can't imagine a life without you in it."

"So," I said. "What the hell is this, a warning that you're going to try?"

"I guess it is," Richie said.

The room was nearly empty. There was only one other table occupied, by three people calmly having lunch. The waitress stayed away from us. Discreet. I looked at the money that Richie had stacked neatly on top of the bill.

"I miss Rosie," Richie said.

"She misses you."

I was quiet. Richie was perfectly still, his hands folded motionless on the table. We were so silent that I was aware of his breathing across the table.

"Are we really talking about the dog here?" Richie said.

"No," I said, "we goddamned sure are not."

—from Shrink Rap by Robert Parker, Copyright © September 2002, Putnam Pub Group, a member of Penguin Putnam, Inc., used by permission.

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Table of Contents

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First Chapter

I always loved Richie's hands. They looked like such man's hands. I knew that I was guilty of gross gender stereotyping, but I kept my mouth shut about it, and no one knew. His hands rested on the table between us, the right one on top of the left. They were still. Richie was always still. It was one of the things that had made it hard to be married to him. I knew intellectually that he loved me, but he was so contained and interior that I used to crave even the most unseemly display of feeling. He was still now, sitting across the table from me, telling me he'd met someone else. We were divorced. It was fine for him to see other people. I saw other people too. But this was a somebody else he'd met. This was more than seeing other people. This made me feel like my center had collapsed.

"Somebody, like walk into the sunset?" I said.

"She wants to get married," Richie said. "She has a right to that."

"And you?"

Richie shrugged. "I'm thinking about it."

"Three kids and a house in the western suburbs?"

"We haven't talked about that," Richie said.

"What about Rosie?" I said.

"She likes dogs."

I looked at the hamburger I had ordered. I didn't want it.

"Rosie would still want to visit," I said.

"I love Rosie," Richie said.

"Has Ms. Right met her?" I said.

"Yes."

"They get along?"

"Very well," Richie said. "Rosie loves her."

She does not.

"Rosie will remain my dog," I said.

Richie smiled at me. "We're not going to have a custody fight over a goddamn bull terrier, are we?"

"Not as long as we remember she's mine."

"She's ours," Richie said.

"But not hers."

"No. Mine and yours," Richie said. "She lives with you and visits me."

I nodded. Richie was quiet.

"How long have you been seeing Ms. Right?" I said.

"About three months."

"Three months."

Richie nodded.

"You're sleeping with her," I said.

"Of course."

"Do you love Ms. Right?" I said.

"Her name is Carrie."

"Do you love Carrie?"

"I don't know."

"And how are you going to find out?" I said.

"I don't know."

Richie had ordered a club sandwich, on whole wheat, toasted. He hadn't eaten any of it. The waitress stopped at our table.

"Is everything all right?" she said.

"Fine," Richie said.

"Can I get you anything else?"

"No," Richie said. "Check will be fine."

"Do you want me to have your food wrapped?" the waitress said.

"No thank you," Richie said.

The waitress looked at me. I shook my head. She put a check on the table and went away looking regretful. Richie and I looked at each other.

"Whaddya think?" he said.

I shook my head.

"I know," Richie said.

He looked at the check and took some bills out of his wallet and put them on the table.

"The thing is," he said, "I can't get past you."

"Oh?"

"I mean, we're sort of spinning our wheels."

"You could call it that," I said.

"I mean this is a nice woman, and she's happy with who and what I am."

I nodded.

"But I can't get past you," Richie said.

"I face somewhat the same problem," I said.

"We need some kind of resolution, Sunny."

"I thought the divorce was supposed to be some kind of resolution," I said.

Richie smiled quietly. "I did too," he said.

"But it wasn't," I said.

"No. It wasn't."

"So what are we supposed to do?" I said.

"I'm serious about this woman."

I nodded. It was difficult for me to speak. The room around me seemed insubstantial, as if I were drifting in space.

"But," he said, "I can't imagine a life without you in it."

"So," I said. "What the hell is this, a warning that you're going to try?"

"I guess it is," Richie said.

The room was nearly empty. There was only one other table occupied, by three people calmly having lunch. The waitress stayed away from us. Discreet. I looked at the money that Richie had stacked neatly on top of the bill.

"I miss Rosie," Richie said.

"She misses you."

I was quiet. Richie was perfectly still, his hands folded motionless on the table. We were so silent that I was aware of his breathing across the table.

"Are we really talking about the dog here?" Richie said.

"No," I said, "we goddamned sure are not."

—from Shrink Rap by Robert Parker, Copyright © September 2002, Putnam Pub Group, a member of Penguin Putnam, Inc., used by permission.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 46 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(28)

4 Star

(9)

3 Star

(4)

2 Star

(2)

1 Star

(3)

Your Rating:

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 47 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 9, 2014

    Rapper Ryan

    Yo listen to my lyrics let em keep u afloat <br> i know that when i speak so please dont rock the boat <br> went down to the well to make myself a wish <br> i threw my coin in and this is what i spit <br> im a rythem composer verbal bulldozer march up the beat like a lyrical soldier <br> thats what i told ya didnt wanna tell ya, my ryhmes are so hot that they call me the melter <br> i sense the anger, i sense the danger, sound the alarm theres a wolf in the manger <br> sail to the wind as i burn oxegen, im breathin out words till the lighrs get dim <br> ill be ack later ima go for a swim.......

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted June 8, 2014

    A man

    This is ten percent luck, <br>
    Twenty percent skill, <br>
    Fifty percent concentrated <br>
    Power of will, <p>
    Five percent pleasure, <br>
    Fifteen percent fame <br>
    And a hundred percent reason to remember the name

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 16, 2014

    Lil~ Kid twisted                                                

    Lil~ Kid twisted                                                         VIRTAL HIGH FIVE!!!!!its awesome!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 16, 2014

    Samael

    Use < br > without the spaces to jump a line. You should use that to seperate the lines like you would in a poem, so you can distinguish the rhyme; I got mixed up in the middle.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 17, 2014

    Kid twisted

    When it was haloween i roled up to your house with my snickers bar whipped out
    I showed it to your mommy and that bi<_>tch took the treat and tricked for free

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 15, 2014

    To zane

    Woah. I love it. -ashfire

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 15, 2014

    A girl rapping MGKs' song Swing Life Away (Blake and Jacie )

    Am i loud and clear? Or do i gotta scream like i did every day when i was a trpubled teen,huh. You you wanna see my past and se e every single scar know what they mean,huh. Seventeen runnin up in micky d's beggin for a double cheese singin i dont wanna grow up, dont nobody like you when youre 23. I came from nothin' but a fuc<_>kin' unsupportive father i dont ever see, i has whatch a crooked jurt put my brother into peniti<_>tary, never fit in, cristism, made me the man i couldnt be.i wish life was still easy spendin every day at chuckie cheese. Had vison one dayWe live on front pourches and swing life away, we get by just fine here on minimum wage, if love is a labor ill slave till the end, and ill run these streets of you give me a chance, ive been here so long! Maybe i shpuld run away, try to find a sumer day what is love, love is pain, love is butterflies and stumach aches, tears drippin like youre in th rain for someone you main not know or you may never see again. I am only alive once and im a die, when god wants, so fill the sky with diamonds cause thats how it'll look when im gone.(Im done the songs alot longer i did this all by memory so the wards are messed up.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 14, 2014

    To zane

    A gazilion stars! Good job!!!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 14, 2014

    Nazi

    Not bad, Zane.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 14, 2014

    Zanes rap for Christ

    I was thinkin bout death yea thinkin what could be worse but then i realizied probbalbly riddin' in herse gettin to bodies that scar ur mind fer life but also gettin to them bodies givin a new a chance with Christ cause he gave his life fer u and u didnt have a clue as He went to the cross in place of YOU and didnt kow and u didnt care that people wouldnt even look at him but instead spit at him and dare him ti come down from that cross and prove He really was the son of God but he hung there tellin Christ ti forgive u and still......you didnt have a clue

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted April 7, 2014

    Mario to Bowser

    What? Newsflash! Bit'ches don't dig the shells.
    Spit fire from mah hands, man, I bring the hell.
    I'm a ref, a chef, racer, doctor, pro.
    Balls stronger at your wife's house then when stars turned me rainbow.
    I'm a Bro, hell I made the name Mario
    Took it to a whole new level, now I bring the pain, yo.
    So step up, if you plan to get badly beat, bro.
    I could crush this bit'ch without using any cheat codes!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 7, 2014

    Bowser

    Whats wrong mario why is your face red? Are thinking about peach? She is in my bed.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 12, 2013

    Bella

    You think you can rap but only the blacks can well spin you outta control like we did with the Ku Klux Klan. They call me Black Beauty .Why? Because I am the Beauty Queen, my beauty rules the motherfu.cking world so bow down to me.Dont start hating cuz your ugly, i think ive lead u to believe ur not, well SCUSE me just look in the mirror and itll start cracking.
    If u wanna be like me stop acting lie a despr8 ho.e and bi.tch if u talk smack to me ur azz will get blown.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2013

    Micky z

    Cuz i roll around the corner like a V.I.P and you know it your livin he.ll cuz im Micky Z. I am your worst nightmare strollin on without a care and makin you regret the day that we had met. I break hearts without you knowin and i just keep on goin. My exes ask me out strip me down to the skin but better be waned and now i will always win. Back off pizz off no one likes you or just not me. You betta straighten up you act cuz boi im mickey z!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 4, 2013

    Rex

    Get the fuq out of her

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2013

    Thomas raps

    You call that crap rap but im still kickking ur a.s.s if u keep it up like this you kniw ur gonna lose fast. Cuz ur rhymes are weak as the things you call muscles ill be charing thrugh ur words like a large pack if mad bulls. You call urself the best but i just put tha to the test. Oh and ps u wioo never beat the rest because baicly u r not as good as me and u never will be no matter wha teacher you see. Where those words to big for your gay a.s.s to understand let say it simple terms i am the man.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2013

    Liz to nick

    What im leaving now.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2013

    Caely

    Walks in in a white see through shirt with a hot pink bra. Her white and hot pink tye dye booty shorts and white stilettos matches perfectly. Her brown hair was curled to one side with hot pink at the tips. Her blue eyes shined and she had tan skin.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2013

    Nick

    Yo yo yor all ho.es u got pu.ssy leryc. Now dont fear it u no u want me im the red $nake and i will stab u with a stake and ra.pe yor girls rite here on the bare so go and get eaten by a bare

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 25, 2013

    To anyone

    Anybody wanna chat?

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