Hey NFL Rookie! You know you hurt me, right? When you approached me at the club, three or four months ago, you were so nice and real. We hung out, and when you went on the road, we kept in touch. Then you lied! Not only did you lie about us being together after you got "settled" (you moved in with your teammate), but I caught you red-handed with the broad you've been sexing behind my back.
Once the fame kicked in, you changed. I guess you thought I was wrapped, and could treat me however you wanted. Huh -- you were wrong! I'm not that desperate. And now you have the nerve to ask me to braid your hair? Boy, I went out of my way to please you. I wanted you for who you were -- not your status! But you couldn't appreciate that, could you? You were too busy working your newfound fame. Maybe when you get tired of all those limelight groupies, you'll come crawling back. But don't bother, buddy, because I'm through! You might have some, but you lost the one.
So, Mr. NFL rookie, keep your money and your free tickets. They aren't worth the trouble. I know I'm the one you'll be thinking about. Oh yeah! And maybe you should get that skanky ho to braid your hair!
-- Anonymous
