Blogs are gay homes

What's up vatos!? My name is Big Happy and this blogging shit is lame but the judge said if I wanted to get out of the pinta (prison), then I had to "find a constructive outlet"...to like keep me outta trouble and whatnot...so whatevers. It was either this or some faggot ass ceramics class. I asked about that class though cause I thought I might get to bone some fine ass ruca like Demi Moore in that ghost movie but they told me chale homes, so now I'm a blogger! Check me out A, all on the interweb like Bill Gates n shit. When you get jumped into the gang, it's por vida, for life, but if my homies knew I was doing this, they'd probably jump me out except they wouldn't even want to touch me...they might catch the gay. It's cool though, I was gonna get fired from my gang anyways, they're too violent...I don't even like shooting people, just shanking with my old screwdriver. They were always talking shit to me like "Damn Big Happy, how come you don't like shooting people?!" and I would just say I only like to stab. Shooting peoples almost always ends up killing peoples and I don't really like killing, just fucking fools up. I have this firme (very good) tattoo on my back that talks about how I really am...it's this badass Aztec warrior and he's all on top of a pyramid...and in one arm he's holding his fine ass Aztec hyna (girlfriend) with big round chi chis and in the other hand he's holding a lot of $100 dollar bills like 100 of them cause when I think about things, I only like 2 things...that's panocha (pussy) and feria (money) and that's the real shit homes. Oh yeah, and the Raiders rule! I wanna give a shout out to my homie Danny Boy...it was his birthday but I had lost phone privlidge due to a small stabbing I allegedly did, which I didn't, it wasn't me vatos! That's all I got for now but my parole officer says I gotta keep blogging or he'll send me back and I can't take no more fucking grilled cheese so talk to you laters putos.