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Hello, my name is Stephanie Dang.
I grew up in the ghettos of Manhattan for the first 5 years of my life. Life was tough; everyday was a grueling battle for survival. I lived in a one room apartment with my mother, my father, my older sister, and my younger brother. With the income that my parents earned, we were barely able to pay the rent each month. When I was 4 years old, a big, black man stole my big swirly lollipop from my hands. He held a gun to my head and told me not to scream or else he would blow my brains out. Being an Asian child, I used my Kung-Fu skills to beat his butt to a pulp. That was one of my earliest adversities which I overcame successfully and I was also able to gain back my lollipop. That event made me tougher and mean because I can never trust big, black men ever again. Now, whenever I see a big, black man coming my way down the street, I would bust out my pepper spray and spray him in the face, even if he didn't do anything to me. Being a woman, I can get away with it easily because he is a big, black man; big, black men are always bad and will destroy you.
Moreover, as I started to enter school, my family and I moved to San Jose, California. We were able to move because the government thought that it was necessary that we were safe, since I am a secret genius. The area that we lived in was no better than where we had lived before; in fact, it is actually worse. By 12 years old, I had already done cocaine, marijuana, crystal meth, and ecstasy. My parents did not support my addiction, but I did not care; I was a rebel. To survive in this town, I had to join a gang. Actually, my whole family was in a gang; we were dangsters. We killed people by day and sold drugs by night. We never got caught until this little white girl called the police on us. We went to jail together as a family for 5 years and also got matching tattoos. After getting out of jail, I realized that I was living a horrible life and had to change. I regretted everything I did. The first step of my transformation was to overcome my drug addiction. That was the easy part; I just had to replace drugs with candy and everything was alright. I killed every member in my gang to stop the violence in my ghetto. I cut off my tattoo and now have a scar. I have grown in to a real leader. School sucks.
For the past eight years of my life, I have dedicated myself to become a great kick boxer. My interests for kick boxing first developed when a big, black man stole my lollipop from me when I was four years old. At that time, I just used my natural Kung-Fu skills on him to re-obtain the lollipop that was rightfully mine. However, I noticed that my skills were fairly week and I was too fatigued to eat my lollipop after I beat up that big, black man. I desired to become indestructible and fearless. In the summer of 1999, I took my first kickboxing class in a hidden dojo. I was confident that I would be able to surpass all of the other students in my class because I was much bigger than them. At age eight, I was already weighing at 160 pounds; it was all muscle, baby! After two weeks of taking the kickboxing class, half of the students in the class had already broken 2 or more bones in their body. I, however, never broke a single bone in my body because I was the one giving out all the broken bones in my class. Everyone in the class was frightened by me. I like the feeling of being feared because it made me feel powerful. The instructor of the class was a big, black man—he looked exactly like the big, black man who stole my lollipop when I was four years old! I wanted to beat him up so badly because he kept eating lollipops in class with his big pink tongue. I have beaten him up to a bloody pulp before, so I knew that I was able to do it again. On August 12, 1999, I lured the big black lollipop eating man—let’s call him Georgia—to my secret tree house where I was going to beat him up. I disguised the act by calling him over to help my perfect my roundhouse kick; little did he know, my roundhouse kick was already perfected and I was ready to use it on him. Georgia came at 9:00:00 P.M., so I was able to break all of the bones in his body by 9:00:01 P.M. That was the greatest achievement of my life. I am now the instructor of the class and make loads of money every week. The only policy that I have for my class is “No big, black men.” I will never forgive big, black men for stealing my lollipop! With the skills that I have acquired from kickboxing, I will become the greatest gardener ever!
P.S. I am not racist
I grew up in the ghettos of Manhattan for the first 5 years of my life. Life was tough; everyday was a grueling battle for survival. I lived in a one room apartment with my mother, my father, my older sister, and my younger brother. With the income that my parents earned, we were barely able to pay the rent each month. When I was 4 years old, a big, black man stole my big swirly lollipop from my hands. He held a gun to my head and told me not to scream or else he would blow my brains out. Being an Asian child, I used my Kung-Fu skills to beat his butt to a pulp. That was one of my earliest adversities which I overcame successfully and I was also able to gain back my lollipop. That event made me tougher and mean because I can never trust big, black men ever again. Now, whenever I see a big, black man coming my way down the street, I would bust out my pepper spray and spray him in the face, even if he didn't do anything to me. Being a woman, I can get away with it easily because he is a big, black man; big, black men are always bad and will destroy you.
Moreover, as I started to enter school, my family and I moved to San Jose, California. We were able to move because the government thought that it was necessary that we were safe, since I am a secret genius. The area that we lived in was no better than where we had lived before; in fact, it is actually worse. By 12 years old, I had already done cocaine, marijuana, crystal meth, and ecstasy. My parents did not support my addiction, but I did not care; I was a rebel. To survive in this town, I had to join a gang. Actually, my whole family was in a gang; we were dangsters. We killed people by day and sold drugs by night. We never got caught until this little white girl called the police on us. We went to jail together as a family for 5 years and also got matching tattoos. After getting out of jail, I realized that I was living a horrible life and had to change. I regretted everything I did. The first step of my transformation was to overcome my drug addiction. That was the easy part; I just had to replace drugs with candy and everything was alright. I killed every member in my gang to stop the violence in my ghetto. I cut off my tattoo and now have a scar. I have grown in to a real leader. School sucks.
For the past eight years of my life, I have dedicated myself to become a great kick boxer. My interests for kick boxing first developed when a big, black man stole my lollipop from me when I was four years old. At that time, I just used my natural Kung-Fu skills on him to re-obtain the lollipop that was rightfully mine. However, I noticed that my skills were fairly week and I was too fatigued to eat my lollipop after I beat up that big, black man. I desired to become indestructible and fearless. In the summer of 1999, I took my first kickboxing class in a hidden dojo. I was confident that I would be able to surpass all of the other students in my class because I was much bigger than them. At age eight, I was already weighing at 160 pounds; it was all muscle, baby! After two weeks of taking the kickboxing class, half of the students in the class had already broken 2 or more bones in their body. I, however, never broke a single bone in my body because I was the one giving out all the broken bones in my class. Everyone in the class was frightened by me. I like the feeling of being feared because it made me feel powerful. The instructor of the class was a big, black man—he looked exactly like the big, black man who stole my lollipop when I was four years old! I wanted to beat him up so badly because he kept eating lollipops in class with his big pink tongue. I have beaten him up to a bloody pulp before, so I knew that I was able to do it again. On August 12, 1999, I lured the big black lollipop eating man—let’s call him Georgia—to my secret tree house where I was going to beat him up. I disguised the act by calling him over to help my perfect my roundhouse kick; little did he know, my roundhouse kick was already perfected and I was ready to use it on him. Georgia came at 9:00:00 P.M., so I was able to break all of the bones in his body by 9:00:01 P.M. That was the greatest achievement of my life. I am now the instructor of the class and make loads of money every week. The only policy that I have for my class is “No big, black men.” I will never forgive big, black men for stealing my lollipop! With the skills that I have acquired from kickboxing, I will become the greatest gardener ever!
P.S. I am not racist
