Until today. This morning was my father's funeral. At the procession, my brother asked me to say a few words. I told him I only needed one. With confidence, I approached the podium. I gazed out upon the gathering of sad faces. I cleared my throat and leaned into the microphone. "Yeet", I spake. Suddenly, my father leapt from his hand-crafted mahogany coffin, the gunshot wound still in his chest. He sprinted up to the podium with the energy of a man without a gunshot wound in his chest. "Y'all hittin' that dirty ♥♥♥♥♥♥' yeet at my funeral?" he ejaculated. He raised his hand to thump me. "Not so fast, pa." I grabbed his hand. "Yaint thumpin' no mo'." My father looked at me with eyes as open as the gunshot wound in his chest. A tear fell from his right eye.

so guys we did it we reached a quater of a million subscribers, 250,000 subscribers and still growing the fact that we reached this number in such a short amount of time is just phenomenal i-im just amazed, thank you all so much
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