The Vig (Dismas Hardy Series #2)

( 24 )

Overview

Payback is murder.

A beautiful woman paid it with her body. A seedy lawyer used somebody else's money. It's the vig—the exorbitant interest mob loan sharks take on their money. Now, in the city by the Bay, everyone has to pay...

Down-and-out-lawyer Rusty Ingraham left behind a murdered woman and a houseboat splattered with blood. All the evidence said Ingraham was in San ...
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Overview

Payback is murder.

A beautiful woman paid it with her body. A seedy lawyer used somebody else's money. It's the vig—the exorbitant interest mob loan sharks take on their money. Now, in the city by the Bay, everyone has to pay...

Down-and-out-lawyer Rusty Ingraham left behind a murdered woman and a houseboat splattered with blood. All the evidence said Ingraham was in San Francisco Bay. Dead. But a friend of Ingraham's, former cop and prosecutor Dismas Hardy, isn't so sure. And Hardy has to find out, because a stone-cold killer, now paroled, once threatened to kill Ingraham and Dismas Hardy both.

Now, to save his own skin, Dismas must face down liars and killers on both sides of the law. From mob foot soldiers to brokenhearted lovers to renegade cops, a dozen lives are tied to the fate of Rusty Ingraham—and the payback has only just begun....
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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Ex-San Francisco prosecutor Dismas Hardy (seen in Dead Irish ) seems to be mending his life as bartender and part-owner of a saloon, even spending more time with his ex-wife. Then prosecutor Rusty Ingraham appears with news that Louis Baker, whom he and Dis had sent away years ago, has been released from jail and is out to kill Rusty and Hardy. Within two days, a woman is murdered on Rusty's houseboat and Rusty is missing. Dis has a tough time convincing detective Abe Glitsky that Rusty has been killed by Baker. There are other suspects: the dead woman's husband; a cop driven from the force by Rusty; and a Mob loan shark. Hardy starts his own investigation--and an affair with a pregnant young widow. With a murder of a young drug-dealer, a Mob-like hit, a suicide and other felonies, the case turns in different directions before Dis nails the villain. A large cast, swift pacing and good local color--the bleak look at life in a housing project is riveting--fuel a gripping yarn. (Jan.)
Library Journal

Former San Francisco prosecutor Dismas Hardy now tends bar. Dismas and fellow prosecutor Rusty Ingraham sent Louis Baker to prison years ago, and Louis swore to kill the two men. On the day of Louis's parole, someone kills a woman on Rusty's houseboat and Rusty himself has vanished. Dismas initially suspects Louis, but the evidence points toward Rusty's involvement with a powerful local loan shark. Lescroart's (The Second Chair) elaborate tale includes police corruption, organized crime, a former criminal's attempt to build a new life, and a love affair for Dismas. Reader David Colacci does an excellent job, as the author provides enough twists and turns to hold the listener's interest. Recommended for all audio collections.
—Stephen L. Hupp

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780451219152
  • Publisher: Penguin Group (USA) Incorporated
  • Publication date: 8/1/2006
  • Series: Dismas Hardy Series , #2
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 384
  • Sales rank: 148,578
  • Product dimensions: 4.10 (w) x 6.80 (h) x 1.07 (d)

Meet the Author

John T. Lescroart
John Lescroart is the bestselling author of eighteen previous novels, which have sold more than ten million copies. He lives with his family in Northern California.

Biography

John Lescroart has made a name (albeit an unpronounceable one!) for himself as the author of crime thrillers, most notably an acclaimed series starring the San Francisco lawyer-and-cop team of Dismas Hardy and Abe Glitsky. But the road to bestsellerdom has been paved with more than a few unexpected detours for this hardworking novelist, who has been writing all his adult life but who only started to chart big around the mid-1990s.

Lescroart (pronounced les-KWA) grew up with an equal interest in music and writing. After college, he concentrated his energies on the former, performing alone and in bands around the San Francisco Bay area and scribbling in whatever spare time he could find. But he set a deadline for himself, and when he had not "made it" by age 30, he quit music to focus on writing. Within weeks he finished up a novel-in-progress based on his experiences living in Spain. He submitted it to a former high school teacher who was less than dazzled; but the man's wife loved it and entered the manuscript in a local competition. Although it would not formally see print for another four years, Sunburn won the prestigious Joseph Henry Jackson Award, beating out Anne Rice's Interview with a Vampire for the best novel by a California author.

To support his art, Lescroart held down a dizzying succession of jobs -- from house painting and bartending to working as a legal secretary. At one point, just as he was ready to enroll in the creative writing program at Amherst, he was offered a lucrative gig he could not afford to pass up, and graduate school fell by the wayside. As the years passed, some of his books were published, but he never felt financially secure enough to write full-time. Then, in 1989, he contracted spinal meningitis after body-surfing in contaminated seawater. He emerged from his life-threatening ordeal with a new resolve, quit the last of his day jobs, and became a real working novelist.

It took a few tries for Dismas Hardy to become the fully realized character Lescroart's fans have come to know and love. Debuting in 1989's Dead Irish, Hardy began life as an ex-cop/ex-attorney turned bartender and did not return to the practice of law until his third appearance in Hard Evidence (1993). From then on, interest grew in the series, which has snowballed into a lucrative franchise for the author. In 2006, Lescroart introduced another San Francisco-based dynamic duo, private investigator Wyatt Hunt and homicide detective Devin Juhle, in The Hunt Club. Slightly younger than Hardy and Glitsky but drawn with the same humanizing brush, the protagonists of this series have proved immensely popular with readers.

Incidentally, Lescroart's writing success has allowed him to return to his other love: He has founded his own independent label, CrowArt Records, which showcases some of his own music and produces CDs by a number of artist/friends. At long last, John Lescroart is able to enjoy the best of both worlds.

Good To Know

In our exclusive interview, Lescroart let us in on some fun and fascinating insights about himself and his life as a writer:

"First, it's Less-KWAH. Here's a tip -- don't have that name. Get a pen name that people can pronounce and remember. Just this Saturday, I gave a talk at a well-attended writers' conference. There were probably a hundred people in the room, and the talk went very well. Five minutes later, I was in the bathroom washing my hands and around the corner, I heard a guy tell another that he'd just heard the greatest talk by John le Carré. 'You know, The Tailor of Panama and the Smiley books? Good stuff. I'm going to go buy all his books.'"

"Second, I didn't have to quit the day job to keep writing. One of the most productive times in my early writing life was while I had a full-time job as a word processor in a law firm and also worked part-time at night, often working until 11:00 p.m. How did I do any writing, you might ask? Well, I did it between 6:00 and 8:00 in the morning, four pages a day, and published five books in six years. But because a) I was making some money doing 'regular' work and didn't have to be scrounging for coin and b) I was panic-stricken at the little time that was left in the day to write, I wound up becoming more efficient."

"Third, I don't wait on inspiration, and I refuse to acknowledge 'writer's block.' I simply sit down and put words on the paper. It's like being a carpenter -- writers build things. Carpenters don't wake up and say, 'Hmm, I'm not in the mood to drive nails today.' No, they go to work and do the job. It's not very romantic, but that's how I approach writing."

"If you have a good relationship, nurture it. The great god of Writing with a capital "W" isn't the only thing in life. It can be a great part and a big part, but it shouldn't consume you on a daily basis and shouldn't make your life miserable all the time. Try not to get nuts about the greater success of other writers -- we're really not in competition with other writers. We're only trying to outdo ourselves, to get better at our jobs. Go on dates. Spend some time outside (fishing is good, so is skiing, hiking, swimming, jogging). Stay in shape -- writing is a marathon. Don't drink too much. Have as much fun as you can."

Lescroart used to perform as "Johnny Capo" in a group called Johnny Capo and His Real Good Band. Although he no longer performs with that outfit, he still pursues music as the founder of his very own independent label called CrowArt Records. The first project on the label was Date Night, a CD of his own compositions performed by master pianist Antonio Castillo de la Gala. Followers of Lescroart's writing may recognize the in-joke in the album's title. As he explains on his web site, "Fans of Dismas Hardy will know that Diz and Frannie (Dismas's wife) set aside every Wednesday night for some time alone together -- it's their date night."

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    1. Also Known As:
      John Lescroart
    2. Hometown:
      El Macero, California
    1. Date of Birth:
      January 14, 1948
    2. Place of Birth:
      Houston, Texas
    1. Education:
      B.A. in English with Honors, UC Berkeley, 1970

Read an Excerpt

At 2:15 on a Wednesday afternoon in late September, Dismas Hardy sat on the customer side of the bar at the Little Shamrock and worked the corners of his dart flights with a very fine emery board. A pint of Guinness, pulled a quarter of an hour ago, had lost its head and rested untouched in the bar's gutter. Hardy whistled tonelessly, as happy as he'd been in ten years.

He'd opened the bar at 1:00 p.m. sharp and had served a bottle of Miller Draft to Tommy, a regular who'd retired from schoolteaching some years back and who now spent most afternoons by the large picture window, talking to whoever would listen. But today Tommy told Hardy he had an appointment and left after one beer. Tommy was all right, but being left alone didn't break Hardy's heart.

Hardy finished one flight and raised his head. He took the Guinness and sipped at it. Through the window over Tommy's table, light traffic passed on Lincoln Blvd. Across the street, the evergreens and eucalyptus that bordered Golden Gate Park shimmered in a light breeze. There had been no fog that morning, and Hardy guessed the breeze would still be warm. If you want summer in San Francisco, plan your vacation for the fall.

A bus pulled up across the street and stopped. When it pulled away, it left a man standing, lost looking, at the corner.

A minute later, the double doors swung open; Hardy scooped up his flights and swung himself around the end of the bar. He stood behind the porcelain beer taps and nodded at the customer.

If it was a customer. At first glance, the man didn't bring to mind visions of bankrolls and limousines. Whether he had sufficient money for a beer seemedquestionable. His shirt was open at the collar and frayed badly. His baggy pants needed pressing. Under a forehead that went all the way back, eyes squinted adjusting to the relative darkness of the bar, although the Shamrock was no cave. He needed a shave.

"Help you?" Hardy asked, then as he looked more closely, the pieces began to fall into place. "Rusty?"

The man let loose a low-watt smile that seemed to require an effort. He stepped closer to the bar. "Ten points." He stuck his hand over the bar and Hardy took it. "How you doin', Diz?" The voice was quiet and assured, cultured.

Hardy asked what he was drinking and said it was on him.

"Same as always."

Hardy closed his eyes, trying to remember, then turned and reached up to the top shelf, grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey, and snuck a glance at the man who'd shared his office back in the days when they'd both worked for the district attorney.

Rusty Ingraham had aged. There was, of course, the hair, or lack of it. At twenty-five, Rusty had sported a shock of orange-red hair and a handlebar mustache. Now, with no facial hair except the stubble, bald on top and gray on the sides, he looked old--handsome still, but old.

Hardy poured him a double.

"Prodigious," Rusty Ingraham said, nodding at his glass.

Hardy shrugged. "You know somebody at all, you know what they drink."

"Well, you found your calling." He lifted the glass, Hardy raised his pint, and they both said "Skol."

"So"--Hardy put down his glass--"you still a lawyer?"

Ingraham's lips turned up, yet there was a gentleness Hardy hadn't seen before. Before he'd left the D.A.'s, Ingraham might have had some sensitivity but it didn't ever come out gentle. Now his half-smile was that of a man looking back only. The good times, whatever they'd been, would never--could never--return. He sipped slowly at his whiskey. "You must have been out of the field a while yourself if you still call them lawyers."

Hardy grinned. It was an old joke. "Attorney then--you still an attorney?"

Like a flame trying to catch on a wick, the smile flickered back. Hardy was getting the feeling Ingraham hadn't spoken to a soul in a long while. "I still have that distinction." He paused. "Though I rarely stand upon the "Esquire' in correspondence, and as you can see"--he gestured at his clothing--"my practice is in a hiatus." He drank again, like a drinking man but not hungrily, not like an alcoholic. There was a difference, and Hardy was keyed to it.

"You do this full-time?"

Hardy's eyes swept the room, proprietary. "Nine years now. I own a quarter of the place."

"That's great. And you're still with Jane?"

"Well, we got divorced once, but we're going at it again." He shrugged. "I'm confident but cautious."

"Yep. You always were."

"So what about you? I noticed you came by on the bus."

Their eyes met a moment, then the flame of Rusty's smile went out. "I got my car stolen a month ago. It's still gone. A major hassle. So I spend a lot of time waiting for the N-Godot."

Hardy liked that. The N-Judah, which ran behind the Shamrock, was a notoriously slow line.

"Otherwise, you pretty much see it, Diz. I hang out. I live in a barge down at China Basin. Chase an ambulance every month or two, hit a good nag now and then. I've still got one good suit. I get my shoes shined and for a day or two I can get by."

He tipped up his glass and asked Hardy if he could buy him one. He put a ten-dollar bill in the gutter. Hardy refilled them both but didn't grab the bill.

"Actually, Diz, I came by here today for a reason. You remember Louis Baker?"

Hardy frowned. He remembered Louis Baker. "Eight aggravated to thirteen?"

"Nine and a half, it turns out."

"Nine and a half," Hardy repeated. "Hardly worth the effort."

"Not even hardly."

Hardy took a belt of his stout, set the glass down, and swore. "I must've sent down a hundred guys. You too," he said.

Ingraham nodded. "All told, I put away two hundred and fourteen assholes."

Hardy whistled. "You were red hot, weren't you?"

"Yeah, but there was only one Louis Baker." Baker had been a cancer in Hunter's Point for the first twenty years of his life. He had a huge head, a well-trimmed Afro, and the body of a defensive safety. In spite of having a sheet ranging from the petty--vandalism and car theft, burglary and muggings--when he was in his teens to the heinous as he matured, he was convinced he would never do hard time, and not without reason.

The D.A. had been forced to drop charges on him twice for murder and four times for rape. He was good at not leaving evidence, or at making witnesses reluctant to testify.

The one time Baker went to trial for attempted murder and mayhem on a man who had talked too long to his girlfriend in a 7-Eleven, the man had finally refused to identify him when the crunch came. He got all the way to the stand, then looked at Baker at the defendant's table and evidently decided that if he pointed the finger at him, he would not live to see his grandchildren. So he suddenly couldn't say for sure that Baker had been the man who'd cut off his ears before stabbing him in the stomach in the middle of the afternoon.

Hardy had been the prosecutor in that case.

The D.A.'s office--Rusty Ingraham this time--had finally gotten him for armed robbery of four victims, one of whom he'd wounded, but as it was only Baker's first conviction, meaning that in the court's eyes he wasn't yet a hardened criminal and hence a candidate for rehabilitation, the judge had been inclined to be lenient and had given him eight years.

When the verdict came down, Baker had quietly hung his head for a short time, then looked over at the prosecution table. Hardy had wanted to come down for the verdict, see this guy finally get put away, and he was sitting next to Ingraham. Baker looked in their direction, directly at Ingraham, seemingly memorizing him.

"You, motherfucker," he said, "are a dead man."

The judge slammed his gavel. Ingraham made a motion to aggravate Baker's sentence in view of the threat, and the judge slapped on another five right then and there.

The bailiff got the huge man to his feet, got some help from two deputies, and started pulling him across the courtroom while he glared at Ingraham.

Then Hardy did a stupid thing.

Baker's glaring, his posing, his tough-guy bullshit struck Hardy funny for a second--for just a second. But it was enough.

Here was this twenty-one-year-old punk, going down for a long time, who thought his ghetto glare was going to put the fear of God or something into the man who'd sent him there. So when Baker, struggling in his chains, fixed Hardy with the Eye, Hardy pursed his lips and blew him a good-bye kiss.

At which point Baker had really gone birdshit, pulling loose from the bailiff and two deputies and nearly getting to the prosecution table before he was quieted down with nightsticks.

The scene replayed itself in Hardy's dreams for months; it wasn't helped by the letter Hardy received during Baker's first week in prison. He'd found out who Hardy was from his own lawyer, and when he got out, the letter said, he was going to kill Hardy too.

Hardy sent copies of the letter to the warden and the judge who'd sentenced Baker, but the parole board ruled on these matters, and since the judge had already bumped his time for threats, they didn't feel compelled to do it again. The letter Hardy received back from the warden explained that although many inmates were bitter just after sentencing, most came around to serving good time and concentrating on getting an early parole.

Most, maybe.

Baker? Hardy wasn't so sure. "So he's out?"

Ingraham pulled his cuff back and checked his watch. Hardy wasn't positive, but it looked to be a hell of a Rolex. "If they're on time, in about two hours."

"How'd you hear about it?"

"I got a friend in Paroles. He called me. And I checked with the warden at the House. Nobody's meeting him at the gate. Who would? Supposedly taking the bus back to town."

Hardy whistled. "You have checked."

"The guy got my attention."

"So what are you going to do?"

His old office mate sipped at his drink. "What can you do? Something's gonna get us all. Maybe lock up more carefully."

"Did you ever pack?"

Ingraham shook his head. "That's for you cops. We gentlemen who believe in the rule of law are supposed to have no need for that hardware."

Hardy had come up to the D.A.'s office after a tour in Vietnam and several years on the police force. Ingraham had come up through Stanford, then Hastings Law School.

"You planning to debate with Louis Baker?"

"I'm not planning on seeing the man."

"What if he comes to see you?"

"I called the warden after I got the word. He says Louis has been a model inmate, has found the Lord, gets max time off for good behavior. I've got nothing to worry about. Neither of us do. Evidently."

Hardy leaned across the bar. "Then why are you here?"

Ingraham's smile finally caught. "Because it sounds like a heap of bullshit to me." He leaned back on the barstool. "I thought it might not be a bad idea to stay in touch for a couple of weeks, you and me."

Hardy waited, not getting it.

"I mean, call each other every day at the same time, something like that."

"What would that do?"

"Well, hell, Diz, we're not going to get police protection. Nobody's gonna put a tail on Louis to see if he heads for our neighborhoods. This way, if one of us doesn't call, at least we have some clue. One of us bites it, maybe, but the other one is warned."

Hardy picked up his Guinness and downed the last two inches. "You think he really might do it, don't you."

"Yep. I'm afraid I do."

"Jesus..."

"One other thing..."

"Yeah?"

"I thought you might recommend what kind of gun."



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Table of Contents

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 24 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(15)

4 Star

(6)

3 Star

(1)

2 Star

(1)

1 Star

(1)

Your Rating:

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 24 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 25, 2006

    The great writing keeps you interested in the story

    I just discovered John Lescroart, and I love his writing style. He develops characters with depth and emotion...Dismas Hardy and Abe Glitsky, his counterpart, were wonderful characters! The novel is interesting, well- written, and humorous. I loved the way it all came together at the ending. A great read!

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted August 29, 2012

    I Also Recommend:

    A goodbook to pass the time with. Lescoart provides rich, textur

    A goodbook to pass the time with. Lescoart provides rich, textured
    dialogue, charecters with a lot of back story and the dense atmosphere
    that goes along with a story that has a lt going o just below the
    surface. J.R. Locke, Author of PossibleTwenty, a Gangster Tale &
    Down and Out in Manhattan, a New York Tale

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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

    Posted March 27, 2012

    Great read

    My first with this author and now I'm hooked. John Lescroart is now added to my favorite authors. Great read!!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted March 2, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    Solid start to the series

    This is my first Dismas Hardy/Lescroart book and it offers a promising start to the Hardy series. There are a number of characters and intertwining stories throughout the novel. Cleverly written and laid out, with deep characters, this is not your typical "whodunnit." The plot is solid, though I can see where some reviewers hinted that there is almost too much going on in the book. I think, however, that this all likely lays the groundwork for the development of Hardy and others in the subsequent books. I'm looking forward to continuing with the series and seeing where Lescroart takes his characters.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 10, 2014

    Blakes bio

    Name:Blake. Age:16 I will be 17 soon. Looks:Long blonde hair, baby blue eyes, beautiful lips, nice perky DD t<_>i<_>ts that are perfectly round, nice big as<_>s that jiggles when you spank it, nice tight pus<_>s<_>y, wears tube tops, short mini skirts with no panties. Likes:Big firm di<_>cks, se<_>x, th<_>ree<_>so<_>mes, giving blo<_>w<_>jo<_>bs, firm ti<_>ts. Height and weight: 4ft 11in. 90lbs. I am the head cheer leader of our cheerleading team. Bye se<_>xies.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 22, 2014

    Zerenas bio

    I look like zendaya i do dance and gymnastics and i go out side i love b ball and lebran drake bruno and austin mahone and i do dance like zendaya

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

    Posted April 22, 2014

    Carla

    Age:17 likes soccer basketball looks black hair and blue eyes wears depends on my mood bo.ob sighs double D tight puzzy will do watever u want me to do anything else ask

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

    Posted April 21, 2014

    Mila

    Curvy, 17, and good at throating, and loves guys and girls. Tight tight pus<^>sy, and perfectly round as<^>s.

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

    Posted April 19, 2014

    Rose bio

    Name: rose// Age: 15// Hair: brown hair in sidebraid// Features: slender, white, light blue eyes, tomboy// Clothes: Graphic tees, jeans, high tops// anything else just ask

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

    Posted April 15, 2014

    Kaylee's Bio

    I'm a cheerleader and captain of the ladies swim team. I kinda small and slender for my age, but I have big hooters and a petite butt. I'm in love with big di.cks and love doing bl.ow jobs. I kinda have this s & m fantasy but to shy to try it out. I'm caucasion/white and irish. I love jocks and athletic people.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 9, 2014

    Jade

    Just wondering

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 15, 2014

    Clementine's bio

    Okay so i su<_>ck at these types of things. Here i go. Hi im Clementine Mariposa calderon. Im british and latin. Im fifteen and turning sixteen in two days. I hate.... the whole system, of friends with ben<_>efits, its sort of stu<_>pid and wrong. Uhh i have brunette long (breast height ) staright hair, i dyed my tips red and i have blue eyes (aqua marine color), i have a beauty mark right under my right eye, i have two dimples on both sides but i rarely show them so if u happen to see them be lucky since no one sees them, i havent smiled in.....two months. Im not gonna fake my bo<_>ob size for any boys to come suck them... i have C size bo<_>obs but boys its gonna be hard for u guys to get ur nasty hands on them, im very fitted, my ex boy friends say that i have a 'Victoria Secret' body, I very skinny, not where u can see my ribs but where my curves show, i have smooth legs and i dont get hair on them (shocked right?), My pus<_>sy uhhh im not gonna out anything about my vag<_>ina cuz thats sort of tmi and gross. I have a slight of a british accent which i hate since my sisters dont. Im a girly girl. Im a fashionista and im sort of judge mental. Idk what you think of me.... cuz that wont put my confindence down. Cuz bit<_>ch ill just throw a come back and smile then walk away. Cuz aint nobody got time for you or you drama sh<_>it! I just say the truth in my case. I can handle the truth but beware a war. I hate boys who just want girls for se<_>x se<_>x and SE<_>X!!! Its like girls get tired too you know. I hate talking about problems to your boy friends.... i just want a boy friend who can be like my best friend. But no one has proven to me that theyre worth my time. Im very sarcastic, and rude at first. But if u get to know me im on of the best persons youll ever meet. In bed ill give myself a rate 10000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000, but will i ever sleep with u without a fight uhh fu<_>ck nah. You as<_>sholes have to prove to me your worth it.... thats it and ohhh btw i play hard to get.... im not no inncoent bi<_>tch whos grateful for a dude to FINALLY hit on them. Nah im grateful that no boy has the gut to prove to me that theyre worth it. So go su<_>ck on another girls ti<_>ts if u cant accept the changelle... so go click that x u lil pus<_>sy... and if u are brave enough meet me at res. 8.... now bye sta<_>klers

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 9, 2014

    Noah

    Anyone wanna fu.ck

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 19, 2014

    Jens bio

    Im 17. 5'6. Long wavy brown hair. Brown eyes. Triple D boo.bs and a nice a.ss. im captain of thee varsity volleyball basketball and softball team. I definitly have curves. I like sex when the man decides to fuqing act like one. I like to be dominated/ forced and i defintly play hard to get. I love a good challenge. I am really good at bjs;)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 11, 2014

    Jason

    Hey baby how was ur day

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 23, 2014

    Ellas bio

    Name elmo wnts to learn (not) its ella dumbazz age:sixteen hair color brown eye color dark brown bestys jim claire jen fav sport football fave team seahawks or green bay <p> borfriend:tommy likes puppys cake water balllon fights etc dislikes bullys <p> personality:random funny nice defensive and is athletic and is not afraid to say wat she thinks and likes giving advice <p> fav song:demons frozen etc clothes:a shirt with the face of a wolf on it and skinny jeans and a jacket with a hoddie and hightops

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 6, 2014

    Kevin's Bio

    Im 17 6"6 with broad shoulders and pecs with muscular abs i have blue eyes and hair that shoots up and to the left...im a varsity captain of my football swimming and lacrosse teams....i like threesomes and bl.owjo.bs.....my di.ck is 11 inches and 2 1/2 inches wide....Anything Else Ask!!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 1, 2014

    Boring couldnt finish it

    Terrible

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 20, 2012

    No text was provided for this review.

  • Anonymous

    Posted December 16, 2008

    No text was provided for this review.

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