-. Papa Dont Preach .- -- Join farm

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Subject: -. Papa Dont Preach .-

Author:
.|. Kris .|. & -.Punk Preacher.-

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Date Posted: 16:13:23 02/06/03 Thu
Author Host/IP: NoHost/207.41.197.58

Femme collaborated into domain inaudibly, digits gripping black spiked steering wheel of her black ford truck. Behind her was a trailer, caging in a thrashing nigrescent sahib. Drawing to a halt before the barns, she slowly shut the car down, silence drowning out the blaring punk rock music. Quickly following, the first real glimpse appeared. She moved out of the car, revealing shoulder length black hair with lime green streaks, a black tube top with a leather jacket over it, spiked wristbands and a spiked choker, black leather flare jeans with studs up the side, and green lampistras. She reached into the back of her truck and pulled out a black leather halter with studs on the noseband, spelling out 'Punk Preacher'. Then it hit you, Punker! The famous arabian race horse! The girl went into the trailer, coming out soon thereafter leading the towering ebon quadruped towards the barn for registry with a black lead rope to match all other raven attire.

Dont label me, I'm one of a kind
Krista

Nicknames, useless, shorter versions of what they call you
Kris

I love guys
Female

9,353,456,345,234,673 years old
17

Nice, sweet, loving
Bitter, secretive, quiet, sticks to herself

I like boys
Boys, her horse, bein a punk

I hate you
Cheerleaders, perky people

((BTW, I don't really hate cheerleaders..fwaha))

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