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ShadeCast
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Name: Clark Gender: Male
Interests: Hacky Sack *footbag*, video games, Karate. Expertise: Rockin' the Driftwood. Occupation: Unemployed/Between Jobs Industry: Nonprofit
Message: message me
Member Since:
4/24/2003
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Fuck this. I sat here with a blank window for about 10 minutes. I have nothing to say. | | |
| They say that each writer gets one exclamation point in their lives.
It's a trite punctuation mark. How does a
punctuation mark get to be trite? Has it been so overused? No. No one
uses them, because we all only get one. Who decided that we shouldn't
use them?
But they're right. Even as I think about it, it
seems a bit stupid. I think it was the show "Seinfeld" that had an
episode about it.
The boy went inside to put on his sweater!
They're right. It's lame.
That was my one.
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| There comes a time in a young man's life when he realizes... he needs to update his lame online journal.
My brother is moving up... and out in the world. And
he's being a bitch about it, too. He keeps like, making a lame ass
effort at getting my attention and then taking my silence as a yes to
do whatever the fuck he wants with my stuff. I'm in a very...
don't-touch-my-stuff mood. So I just bitched at him... and now he's
angry at me. Meh, fuck it. I'll blame the hormones. That's easy to do.
At the end of the Blue Line
At Forest Park
There's a man there who sits in the dark
And offers people a slice of heaven
For a paper and a dollar eleven.
And he'll roll it out, and hold it up
and wait for you to take a puff.
And watch all your dreams slide past
And smile when your eyes get glassed.
But the glint in his eye says something else
That he can almost taste your health.
He taps his foot sometimes, to a beat
While he looks at you, a piece of meat.
But it's not hard to glance away
and not really listen to what he has to say
But if you asked him, he'd agree
The best devil is the one you can't the see.
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| WTF, man. How is golf even ALLOWED to be televised?!
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