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Fate ain’t nothin but the name of an ugly ass stripper

Dear Murray

Do you believe in fate? Do you believe that things are out of our control, and no matter what we do, we can never avoid our destiny?
-namaste

Christ, they’ve just gone straight to mainlining the fuckin patchouli these days, haven’t they? Here’s the thing about fate: it’s only as good as the motherfuckers in charge of controlling it. There’s a whole bunch of people out there who think the world’s gonna end a certain way, and it’s their duty to set it in motion. Then, there’s other people who think just ’cause Billy Ray Joe Bob ran away with Sally Sue, it makes no difference, ’cause they’re destined to be together.

Listen, if I hear the word “manifestation” one more time, a motherfucker is gonna lose an eyeball. Fate is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Just move the fuck on with your life, or else fate’s gonna make your ass fat. Then when Sally kicks that wife-beatin’ Billy Ray out, he’s gonna want nothing to do with you.

I think you people smoked a little bit too much sage at Sally V.’s birthday party.

Now leave me the fuck alone.

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Dear Murray

Dear Murray a tasty, tasty bitch beloved and feared by hordes of basement-dwelling illiterati and their fierce antagonists, the Grammar Nazis. He single-handedly turned the webcam whorefest of Myspace into a lively commerce of ideas, including whether or not the TUBGIRL photo will ever be topped as a postmodern expression of the inexpressible. According to web historians, he has inspired more photoshop projects and syphilis jokes than Britney Spears (who he has been repeatedly linked romantically to). He is also rumoured to be the father of Anna Nicole Smith's baby, a disciple of Cliff Yablonski, and the second gunman on the grassy knoll. Although he could not be reached for comment, he reportedly resides in or near the tent cities along the LA River Basin, third right after the walrus sunning station.

He has vehemently denied all charges that he is any any way responsible for that rash your wife claims "is from the heat".

His primary function is doling out advice; the inspiration sprang from an endless and eventually dull repetition of fucktards failed to heed his words.

A secondary result is a dysfunctional family "round table" of people who contribute innumerable one-liners and personal experiences, rarely related in any way to the actual question.

It is estimated that tens of thousands of readers have "LOL'd" approximately 5,395,645,694,167,467,105 times, with the toll expected to rise.

He is immune to kryptonite, chlamydia, and brainwashing.

Wikipedia has banned PENCILTITS's entry, debating the relevance of his tasty bitchiness.