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Member Since: Feb 2, 2007
Last Login: Jun 17, 2020 11:32 AM
Name: Pete Mitchell
City, State: Clemson , SC
Email:
Occupation: Read my life story
Web:
Affiliation: Student
School:
Major: Prtm (Sport Management) BS
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Hobbies: smokin reefer
Where I sit/park:
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Where do I start? I was born the middle son of a farmer and a small town southern man. Back when Nixon was president, Ford was in the whitehouse, and Johnson was running this country into the ground.

At the tender age of one, I could recite my abc's and count to 20. When I was 5 years old i was dealin' bubblegum packs to my fellow nursury mates. By the end of kindergarten, i was so far ahead of my class, I went straight to second grade. Some began to think of me as the next renaissance man, my name was in the mix with Steve Jobbs, Da Vinci, Vincent Vangough, Marty Pocius etc. As I celebrated my 6th birthday, I was hangin' out with 4th graders. Little did anybody know, within 5 years I would own the town they call home, and that is Clemson. By the time I was seven and in fourth grade, I had ten dollar bags, 25 dollar packages, you know, slingin' the grass. After skippin fifth grade, I was in sixth grade and was datin' a sophomore in high school. That same year i was pushin' Q.p.'s through the local high school known as "D-dub." I made such people as GQ and Julius Anderson look like small time dealers. At the age of nine, I developed a connection with a man by the name of Guardo Sanchez from Venezuela. This is where things get interesting. Even though I was technically in eighth grade and nine years of age, I was taking high school classes. Guardo Sanchez cut me such a deal, that i had no choice but to buy him out of roughly 600 lbs. of marijuana. At this point i had to move my operations to a larger scale. business was booming, so for my tenth birthday, i treated myself to a helicopter. Two months later i had my helicopters license. Unfortunately, I knew there were people out there who were tryin' to 86 me. So i had to strap up with a nine, .22, and sawed off shotgun. At this point in my life, marijuana became child's play. As i officially became a high school freshman at ten years old, i was bangin the captain of the cheerleading team and was starting Q.B. Guardo Sanchez revolutionized the way i thought of drug traffickng. He introduced me to a man by the name of pablo el~toro. Mr. el~toro owned over ten thousand acres of coca fields and 6,000 tenant workers. With the use of my helicopter, i bought 50 kilos of 100% pure cocaine for $100,000. With this bag, i now owned college campuses across the southeast. I sold the purest white girl, for a price untouchable by competitors who chopped. I turned the 50 kilos into $1.5 mil. With this money I bought and paid for el~toro's retirement and took over his farm. By this point I was responsible for all cocaine found along the east coast. Eleven years old, pullin a quarter mil a day, and during a Nike elite camp after my freshman year, i received major college offers from almost every D1 across the south. A lucky few witnessed me throw a football a quarter mile, I only did once though, probably due to the fact that I was a humble man.For some reason football wasn't my passion, breaking bricks was my true calling. Eleven and a half years of age i turn in the football pads and helmet for the 9 mm and ski mask. A high school dropout, maybe, but i was the smartest kid of my generation. With school and football out of the way, i was able to focus full time on movin weight. About the time i was turning twelve, i ran away from home and purchased an island in the Bermuda triangle from Cuba. Never saw anyone physically from Cuba, just sent in the cash. At this point I'm pushing out three hundred kilos an hour back at the farm, and I never touched a grain of dope. Three mill a day was nothing at this point. I eventually had more money than i knew what to do with, I had money in banks and stocks all over the world. Then I turned 13, and realized I was worth $10.5 billion in assets and bank accounts. But you know what they say, all good things have to come to an end sometime. The summer that year, federal coast guards from America, Britain, and Mexico converged on my island. I walked out and accepted my fate. After being convicted of over 300,000 accounts of racketeering, distributions, and extortion, in other words life without the possibility of parole at a super max prison in Barrel, Alaska. I spent my time in prison, and was pardoned by the president, i think it was due to the Alabama Kush i sent him when i was a young lad. Most kids my age are tryin' to get a driver's permit, I've been on top of the world and all the way back down. Thanks for your time, peace.



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