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Thursday, April 30, 2009

Oink Oink. Your Dead!

First came the invasion of the Chinese birds, and now these damn Mexicans and their pigs! Who would have thought eh? World wide swine flu epidemics back to back!

What the fuck are you talking about you crazy Indian boy!? Surely this is the first time that we have seen such a breakout of piglet madness!?

Alas poor reader, I regret to inform you that this is the second reported outbreak of swine flu disease within the last 34 years. In the October of 1976, a group of medical opportunists, who I will be now referring to as deplorable and feeble excuses for humans; i.e. jackasses, took it upon themselves to declare that there was an epidemic of swine flu disease ready to sweep the nation!

Apparently, this epidemic was so grave that $135 million of U.S public funds were appropriated to develop a vaccine and to create these nifty commercials. The best part? The original case which involved the death of a soldier at Fort Nix, was deemed to be the result of A-Victoria flu and NOT swine flu.

But wait, it gets even better! This current outbreak of swine flu is the direct mutation of the vaccine developed in 1976. The current strain would not exist were it not for an unnecessary vaccine developed 34 years ago. Now, I am not going to go into conspiracy theorist land but fucking hell, wake up! Remember the avian flu? Mad cow disease? Norwalk virus ring a bell? They wiped out most of the worlds population right?



Lets not even talk about the perfect timing of the appearance of this global virus, nor the economical, political or social ramifications it will have on the world at large. Instead, lets talk about why. Why we as a society feel the need to remain an overmedicated, scared bunch of sheep! Why we constantly give into a fear mongering media and let obese power hungry dogs lead us astray from what we KNOW and NEED!

Yes, true global disease can exist, I am not denying that fact. A good example of this is the Spanish Influenza of 1918. What I am fighting against however, is the need for a vaccine or pill for every headache and sniffle. People get sick, yes. However vaccines more often than not create more problems than they solve. They create super viruses and a plethora of offspring.

Let me pose this question. Why isn’t there a greater global focus on diet and exercise rather than medicine? Even the medical industry agrees it is the best prevention to almost all human ailment. Could it be that if a true global push were made in this area, then a multi-billion dollar industry would collapse? Hmmmm.

Have we really come to the point where we are willing to risk the survival of the human species simply because its easier to not give a fuck?

Open your eyes, and if there is anyone in there. Please. Wake up.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

We sang a song last night.

A song of liberation and a song of life. We showed how two souls could galvanize to become one.

I now have hope, and I now have peace.

Thank you.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Its a momentary party.

We sit and we wonder, eyes open mouth aghast. We pray to be saved when we refuse to help. Sit and wait, surely it will come. Isnt that what we say? Sit and wait. Time is running out. A little bit of this, a little of that. Its all we ever wanted.

An explosion in the sky, a world burns and a baby cries. Steal my innocence because I dont have any left to hide. I lie naked on the table heart in my mouth. Beyond what we expect, beyond what we need. Try harder, always harder and dance for life.

Monday, April 20, 2009

I think my best friend in Australia is the anti-christ.

And Im pretty ok with that.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Let the rapture begin.

For it is now that I begin my song.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Slow down everyone, Your moving too fast.

Time passes slow.
Dark shrouds pass by ears too distracted by idle chitter chatter to even feign attention.

I sit. Quiet. Violent waves of solitude wash over my face. Im not sure what to say, what to express. To feel.


Saturday, April 11, 2009

I have been inhaling books over the past 3 weeks or so.

Which consequently leads me to write/observe/think more and party less. So, its a win win situation really.

These are some books that EVERYONE should read.

A Thousand Splendid Suns - Khaled Hosseini
Odd Thomas - Dean Koontz
Peace Like a River - Leif Enger
Running With Scissors - Augusten Burroughs
Shantaram - Gregory David Robert

Hold your breath and count to ten. Fall apart and Start again.

Eyes cast downward, he slogged through the rain that filled the cold dreary night. He knew what he was going to do was not going to solve anything. He knew, yet he continued. How many times had he tried to stop? How many times had he failed? He didn’t care. He just knew he had to continue.

He stopped underneath an overhang as he reached into his grey jacket pocket and lit a cigarette. The pitter patter of water continued its endless assault.
“How moronic”, scoffing to no-one in particular, his blue eyes transfixing themselves on the glowing ember at the end of his cigarette.

“And they said this shit would kill me.”

A deep throaty laugh escaped his lips. One that would have garnered the curiosity of even the most indifferent of individuals. This laugh was one that seemed to scream for help, a laugh of a man that was praying to be saved. It not only betrayed the madness that lurked not far underneath, but it wretched at the listeners soul seeming to taunt any who were brave enough to listen to its voice.

A pink tongue lashed over a set of thin moist lips spraying sticky spittle over the cracked pavement.

Tasting the smoke, he stretched his arms and relished in the its acrid gray tones. These moments of clarity were rare, and he planned to take advantage. Closing his eyes and letting his mind wander he slowly started to count backwards from 10. Images of place he had never been to began to flood his senses.

Red balloons in the sky, the smell of hamburger meat and giggling of innocent children crowded an otherwise tortured soul.

I started writing this short story 6 months ago. This is as far as I ever got. Maybe one day Ill finish it.

My favorite Beatles song of all time.

This song just screams beauty while simultaneously raking the insides of your stomach with a pitchfork.

Songs about Paper towels.

Although I seem to have been denying this realization for several years now, I have to finally concede that me, traveling, and awkward bathroom experiences tend to go hand in hand.

First there was the Bangkok woman's washroom debacle of 2001, the Indian, "Oh my god I shouldn't have eaten that," mess of 04' and finally the London "hey I can see your penis" incident of 07'.

Now, I generally tend to avoid awkward experiences if I can, (don't really see the point in them ya know?), but sometimes, they can be a terrifying source of amusement.

Let me start at the beginning.

The day had started like any other in the Northern Territories of Australia. It was a mindlessly hot and hazy morning. I lay sprawled on a metal bench, head loped to the side, tongue listlessly moistening my lips in a futile attempt to sooth over the freshly tiled leather.

“I stink.”

“Yea. Its pretty bad,” confirmed Darran who sat two benches over to my right, “maybe you should think about not being such a dirty bastard.”

“You don’t exactly smell like a bed of roses yourself jackass!” I quipped back, head snapping in his direction.

Although I knew his comment was mostly in jest, I was now very conscious of the exact odor my body was emanating. I concluded, that the stench I exuded lay somewhere in-between ten day old blue cheese and a mayonnaise/egg sandwich that had sat in the sun for too long. Not exactly the things dreams are made of.

It had been 80 hours, 23 minutes and 15 seconds since my last shower and change of clothes. I suspected it would be another ten before I would have my fill of bronze shampoo and soap that smelled like baby powder.

The train life.
How I loathed it.

For the better part of four days, I had been squashed into a seat that was entirely too narrow, and which I suspected had been originally designed for a spineless Oompa Loompa. The fabric of the chairs not only clung to the fibers of my clothing but also oozed their own special brand of rotten perfume. Paying almost quadruple for a first class carriage had never sounded so good.

We had stopped for several hours in the sleepy town of Catherine. Nothing was open, save for the subway which had run out of lettuce. Tummy’s rumbled, tempers remained short, and clothes stinky.

On a side-note, how do operate a successful subway franchise when running out of lettuce is even a feasible option? Like, thats one the main components of a decent subway sandwich. Its the bread to the butter, the cheese to the wine, the blue to the Smurf. Come on Catherine, population of 20,000. Get your shit together. Alas, I digress. Its just that the subway incident affected me much more than it probably should have. Back to the story:

“I have to do something about this,” I said grunting and rising to my feet. “You know, this deodorant spray is a piece of crap too. I mean, when I buy Hollywood Playboy Spray I want to smell like a hollywood playboy damnit, not a dead bovine.”

Darran glanced up from his book and rolled his eyes. My witty comments about body odor had seemed to run its course.

“Ok, Ill be back,” I said as I started my walk to the bathrooms. My initial intention on entering the restrooms were to use its facilities. Just relieve the pot and drop the Cosby kids off at the pool you know? Nothing too out of the ordinary. It was then however, as it often happens with terribly mundane moments, that genius struck.

I had exactly three things at my disposal in that florescent tiled washroom. Paper towels, liquid soap and water. Now, if I didn’t feel so utterly grimy I would never have even considered what I did next, but when your up to bat and the bases are loaded, the rules tend to go flying out the window.

Half considering the possible repercussions of my to be actions, I took off my shirt, shimmied down to my Sportsman boxer briefs, lathered up a paper towel and went to work. I wiped my arms, torso, pits, face and even neck with great vigor. I silently congratulated myself. This was the best idea I had come up with in a while. So simple and utterly foolproof. Why, I wondered, didn’t more people do this? It was at that moment, soapy paper towel firmly pressed underneath my right arm, that a man walked in.

Upon entering the lavatory and seeing me, his step immediately faltered. Fear filled eyes caught mine. He hesitated, not quite sure if he should continue or head back in the direction from which he came. Presumably, he must have decided I wasn’t a major threat for he continued into the bathroom to go about his business. I did notice however that every effort was made to block me from his immediate interpretation of reality.

I on the other hand, continued in my poor man’s sponge bath. I had gone beyond the point of embarrassment and being somewhat clean was too much of a temptation to stop.
Nevertheless, a thought did cross my mind that I subsequently decided to act upon. Call it sleep deprivation, plain pigheadedness, whatever. I decided, that at that moment, it was my duty to restore some normalcy into a situation that desperately required some. My solution? To start humming.

At the first tremble of my lips, the man’s eyes shot up and widened. His movements at the sink became increasing frantic and desperate. Upon observing his actions, I couldn't help but think that perhaps I had overcompensated on my humming skills. Or maybe, just maybe it had something to do with the fact I was slowly humming the tune of Riot Van, naked from the waste up, and wiping myself down with soapy paper towels in the train station bathroom of Catherine, Australia. I’m willing to bet on the latter.

Not paying enough attention to the practice of proper hygiene, the man gave a quick rinse and scurried out through the doors. He reminded me of a cockroach when a light gets turned on in a dark room.

Now finished with my impromptu shower, (and smelling considerably cleaner I might add) I strolled out the door, down the hall and back into the waiting terminal.

I spotted him almost immediately. There he sat, talking feverishly to his wife about his experience. Catching the couples eye, I gave a curt nod and a smug smile suggesting I was very happy in my pine like fragrance. They however, did not return the smile but looked away refusing to even acknowledge my existence. I didn’t mind. For you see, at that moment I was sweat and offensive odor free and I don’t think there remained a more content person in that room than me.

As crazy as this whole experience sounds, this actually did happen to me no less than 2 days ago word for word (almost >.>). I shit you not.

I should have a sitcom about my life. I predict it would be a hit.

Oh hi.

This is for you. Yea.


Monday, April 6, 2009

Im excited!

Quiet and thoughtful. But still very excited.

Its just after midnight.
The city lights are almost here, and the feast begins soon.

If you could change the world.

What would you do?

Would you create peace? Eliminate famine, war and pestilence? Or would you leave it untouched? Letting the pieces of the pie fall into place where they may, no matter how horrific it is to watch?

Would you promote good health? Mental stimulation? How about fostering spiritual growth without the rusty chains of religion to tie it down?

A world able to be bent at your will. People frothing at the mouth to do your bidding.

Would you create armies? Would you destroy all that oppose you?

Cut the throats of the naysayers, for they don't understand your vision.

Would you kill, maim and destroy to create a utopia? One which is free from such atrocities but cannot be reached without sacrificing the lives of innocents?

The power to sculpt and create as you see fit, un-imaginable power flowing through fingertips into clay pots.

If you could, would you?

PS. Id just make certain execs create another season of Arrested Development. I mean fuck, what a great show.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Riding around in my Black Devil Car.

The lights flash by in an angry blur. I stare straight ahead. There exists nothing but the silence of the night and the grumbling of a hungry motor. The wheels grip the pavement with a fierce hold, one only replicated in a lovers embrace. They will never let go. They will never betray.

I remove my left hand and place it upon my thigh and tilt my laden head to the side. Something isn’t right. The purity of the moment has gone.

Yellow lights flash in my mirrors. I look down. It seems a menace with too much time and bravado in his hands has come searching. Do I give him the satisfaction? My brakes lights make that decision for me as they blink, indicating an acknowledgment and a start to the hunt. A wrist turns, a gear clicks. Game on.

Slicing through the air and a seemingly useless city we move through the streets. We remain not but a pair of pure black ghosts in search of their god. We dip; shoulders moving in unison, hips contorting to match the speed. Passer by’s stop and stare at the 2 second spectacle. Why? they ask, Why?

We pay no attention because we already understand. They will never know the exhilaration, the beauty, the subtlety of it all.

A high whine reaches my ears. My partner has raised his beast on its hind legs; a mocking smile plays on his lips. You will never catch me, comes the whisper.

I flatten myself down. My ego overrides.

No! This is stupid. You must stop now. You must!

I don’t. I won’t.

These speeds are dangerous. A pebble or a crack can mean demise. A wrong push can destroy.

Yet I continue.

A heartbeat passes and it all becomes too much. My lover has betrayed me with a vicious slap to the face.

I fall.

The sound of the plastic on pavement makes a sickening crunch, the smell of burnt leather and tire reaches my nostrils through the air holes. A dark liquid saunters its way down to a gutter. And here I lay in a crumpled heap; eyes still open for the moment.

‘Did I win?’ comes the gurgled cry through my lips.

Dead air greets me. I cough as a red speckled arc makes its way over my chin. It would be beautiful were it not such a tragedy.

Eyes close and my face relaxes. The purity of the moment returns and a smile finds its way onto my face. This. Here. Now

This is a test of the Emergency Broadcast System

The stars are blinking their eyes, the rain has slowed down to a chatter. The ticky tacky of my fingers on the keyboard elude even the most interested of parties and I sit.

I listen.


My head starts to move. Back and forth it bounces. Shy. The notion of unbridled intensity is beyond its grasp.

I sit.
I listen.

A man speaks.

Can you see me passing over? On a silver ship built of popsicle sticks?
Can you see the light shine down through my fingertips?
Heed my advice poor boy. For don't be afraid.
You came up from the ground from a million little pieces. Your a pretty human being. Yea. Your a pretty human being.

Wobble and dance. Dance for all that there was and all that there will be. For everyone here is a crowd. A crowd that came up from a million little pieces.

I sit.
I listen.

There is dead silence now. The empty echos of a time long forgotten which remain pushed to the side. The ticky tacky of my fingers provide my only solace from the violent intrusion of a soundless sound.


My head begins its decent into its haphazard arc. Back and forth it wobbles.

A man speaks.

I once shook hands with a boy who honestly thinks.
A man, with a penchance for ink.
He said, look. Look to see how well it fits. My nails, my eyes, my lips.
Its beautiful said the man who thought. Truly Insatiable. Incredible.

I light my cigarette and inhale. Acidic gray smoke crawls its way out of my mouth and the ember glows, waiting until it is beckoned again.

I sit.
I wait.

Ink on the dot

The process of tattooing. Why does our modern day generation take part in this practice? What compels us to have ink permanently put into our skin. It begs the question, is it vanity, is it art, or is it simply both? Certainly, tattoos can reflect different periods of a persons life. Their total dedication to a culture; Their hopes, their dreams, their personalities or their memories can all be translated into tattoos. But why? Why would someone wish to take something that resides within them and place it upon their flesh? Perhaps its a way to make the incorporeal into the material. A bookmark in ones life to remind the self what one has gained and what one has lost. A story in a life's journey.

Tattoos have burst into the mainstream with a yell and a stomp within the last 40 years. Its not just the uncivilized that tend to get work done these days, its the lawyers, the doctors, the engineers, and the nanny's that help contribute to the growing numbers. At some point in time, it became acceptable for a “normal person” who contributed to society, to have a tattoo. They were no longer shunned or dismissed, but instead praised on the quality of the work. Tattoos suddenly were started to be appreciated more as pieces of moving art rather than a symbol of non-conformity.

What caused this shift? This increased surge of individuals who wanted to reclaim their body? Could it be nothing more than a “trend” which has yet to see its end? Perhaps. But let me offer another explanation.

It was the start of the sixties. A time of mass political and social upheaval in the western world. People were starting to refuse to accept the norm and questions were being asked. Suburban, intelligent teenagers had begun to experiment, both with drugs as well as a different streams of thought. It was the age of the true rebel.

For most of the flower power generation, it was an age of great growth, both socially as well as individually. There however needed to be a fitting form of recording such triumphant acts. Tattooing seemed to be the answer. It served as an automatic segregation from the class structure which most were fighting against and at the same time created a unique shared experience. Although every tattoo and story were different, the symbol of laying down permanent ink on your body was enough to distinguish an individual as not “one of them”. Thus, no longer was the tattoo the flag of the outcast and misunderstood. Now, it became a strong representative for the pissed off mass.

It slowly evolved from there to what we see here today. Now a days, cultural talk does not see tattoos as a means of segregation from established society, but simply as evolved pieces of art.

What, you ask, can possibly be the motivation then? Vanity is a possible explanation. It, as with most things, drives a person towards what they think helps them look better. As with the past, tattoos today are used for decorative, spiritual, identification, and cosmetic reasons.

However, if we were to dig a little deeper we would realize that a tattoo does have a certain type of aura surrounding it, especially in today's world. Not to say that the individuals with the tattoos are seen as miscreants and low lives (although, at one time this was true), but they are simply now subject to a completely different form of analyzation.

The hidden mystic of a tattoo is something powerful and hungry. This perception of unbridled intensity which lies just underneath the surface can be a powerful magnet to some. This radiates off most good tattoos and can be a very powerful enticement to get inked.

Many don't understand tattoos. They find them neither fascinating or attractive. In fact, some would go as far to say that they clutter up an already perfect piece of art. I can in some sense understand this point of view, but fail to see its merits. A tattoo is simply an extension of what and who you are. It is a declaration to the rest of the world without you having to say a single word.

War. What is it good for? Absolutely nothing.

Before I start writing anything else, let me preface this ENTIRE essay/note/madman's ramble by saying that whatever may be said here is meant to spawn thought and discussion. It is not meant to offend nor demean any individual, culture, or way of life.

A few days ago I got sent a link to a video called “Fitna The Movie - A Geert Wilders film about the Quran”. Now, I had heard the controversy surrounding this movie but never uptil now had I the opportunity to sit down and watch it. For those who don't know what I am talking about, here is the controversial video in question.

First a little back story on our friend Geert Wilders. He is a dutch politician who has been a member of the dutch parliament since 1998. First for “The Party for Freedom and Democracy” and from 2006 on, “The Party for Freedom”, a party which he founded and of which he is the political leader. He has always been a staunch critic of Islam and believes the ideals of Islam are in conflict with Dutch law.

Geert Wilders is however, a very strong supporter of Israel. In the past 25 years he has visited Israel over 40 times where he claims to have met with Ariel Sharon and Ehun Olmert personally. In the last ten years that he has served in parliament, Wilders has always supported Israel and politically attacked nations, individuals and groups which he perceives to be enemies of Israel.

To basically understand the mentally of our enlightened friend Geert Wilders, lets take a look at a direct quote of his in which he was referring the increasing Muslim population of the Netherlands.

“Take a walk down the street and see where this is going. You no longer feel like you are living in your own country. There is a battle going on and we have to defend ourselves. Before you know it there will be more mosques than churches” (Geert Wilders).

Hmm. Shed some light on his character?

Now, the actual video was in all honesty nothing but a joke.

Again, let me preface what I am about to say next by re-iterating that I am NOT tied to any religion nor do I have any special compassion for Islam. In fact, I disdain the very idea of organized religion. I believe organized religion, is a parasite on the human race, feeding itself while simultaneously killing its host.

This video was created to do nothing more than to incite hatred and intolerance. It is easy to take parts of any holy book that are out of context and make it sound like the most inhuman thing ever written. This, is what Geert Wilders did to gather more supporters for his ignorant and hateful ideology. Lets take a closer look shall we?

Female circumcision, is an African cultural tradition and even though it is practiced culturally within Islamic communities, it is not related to Islamic teachings.

Killing homosexuals is not taught or supported in Islam. Stoning itself is never mentioned once in the Quran. How many times is it mentioned in the Bible you ask? 18.

Contrary to popular belief, Jihad does NOT mean holy war. Jihad directly translates to effort. As preached in the Quran, War jihad is the smallest jihad. Educating jihad is the greatest jihad.

Wilder, references the Quran 8:60 in which he says, “Strike terror in the enemies of God”.
Sorry Wilders, but if that phrase were to put into context, it translates as “Frighten the enemies of God.” Substantial difference.

From 8:57 to 8:61 the translation is as follows: “If you are in war, you defend your life and fight. But if your enemies accept peace then do it.”

Interesting no?

In the end, ALL the verses about violence are either taken out of context or wrongly translated.

Hey look, I can do it too:

This is what the LORD Almighty says: “Now go, attack the Amalekites and totally destroy [a] everything that belongs to them. Do not spare them; put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.” Samuel 15:3

“Now kill all the boys. And kill every woman who has slept with a man, but save for yourselves every girl who has never slept with a man.” Number 31:17,18

It should also be noted (although it really shouldn't have to be), fanatical terrorism has existed for a very very long time now. People causing suffering to a group of civilians due to a conflict of ideologies. Their sole purpose is to "convert" their enemies style of life into one which is deemed acceptable by the terrorists. This hand is extended not only to religious fundamentalism, but to political wars across the globe. From the start of the KKK in the 1870's, racist and political terrorism of Nazi Germany and Stalin, the red brigades of Germany and Italy, to the ETA in Spain and the PKK in turkey. Terrorism is a fanatics way of life. It exists EVERYWHERE and is not limited to any particular religion or creed.

We, as westerners assume that the fanatic will listen to the “right” logic and the individual will prevail over the nonsense. However, how can this be possible when the very culture itself is in complete opposition to that? Here in the western world, your own individuality, security, and comfort super seeds everything else. You are not going to jeopardize your own life for the sake of the community.

However, else where, tribal mentality is the ruler. Where, worrying about what happens to your own self is in-consequential. What matters is, how will it affect everyone else? The tribe is replaced for the individual. Thus, acts of fanaticism are acceptable as long as the perceived results will be a positive for the community as large. Heck, we see signs of this in the western world today. Evangelical Christians and neo-conservatives ring a bell for anyone?

I will say this however, Islam is a very dated religion. It is the only one out of the major theistic beliefs that has remained static. It tries to force an ever changing world into its own envelope, and perhaps this makes Islamic fanaticism inevitable. At its height Islam used to be the most progressive, and liberal religions in the known world and then it just stopped. Corruption, greed, and just plain pigheadedness took hold. Its a shame really.

Perhaps one day we can all live in a world where organized religion ceases to exist, and TRUE religion gains its foothold. Even then, how easy would it be manipulate and corrupt? Maybe we need to work on bettering our selves before we try and force others to believe something we only half heartedly understand.


A formidable word when taken in any context. It has the ability to push someone to the breaking point and in the same take, force decisions that can change the course of a life. In all honesty, there is nothing wrong with procrastination, in principle that is. As long as the work gets done while still maintaining its quality, there should be no problem. Right? RIGHT?

Although procrastination has become a mainstay in my academic career (or lack thereof at this point), I believe there to be a limit as to where and when this train of thought should be employed. School is...easy. Life? Well, as amazing as it is, it can also have its moments of pure frustration. Moments where you want to pack it all in and just punch the bus driver. Moments where nothing seems to be working to your benefit and the gods themselves seem to have given up. This is where procrastination becomes dangerous.

Procrastination has to tendency to be easily evolved into an apathetic state. No good can ever come out of apathy for it is an intrinsically foul thing. It festers in a persons soul, rotting someone from the inside out. To have no emotion or passion for anything destroys a person.

Now, keep in mind I am not talking about specific apathy, but a general blanket of not caring. Too many people like this exist, and perhaps that says something about how the society we live in today conducts itself. Clearly much work needs to be done on a macro scale, but it still all boils down to an individual. The individual has the power to change.

Take a chance. Start to risk. If you fall, wipe the dirt of your knees and stand back up. Don't be afraid, yet be smart and conscious of the world around you. Believe in what you know you can accomplish, and in the same take, know your limitations. Not everyone has the heart of lion, nor the brains of a rocket scientist.

Procrastination. Apathy. Employ them wisely.

I think Im going to transfer all my facebook notes onto here.

There are a couple of Facebook notes which I have written in the past that I quite like. Since, Facebook user policies tend to change quite a bit and often quite drastically, I am going to just post them on here. Most will essentially remain the same, although some will undergo drastic re-editing.

At least that way it will remain my intellectual property, and everything will be organized together under one roof. Fucking Facebook, such greedy little bastards.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

I was at an impass.

But now its done.

Decisions have been made, and heads have been rolled.

Just sayin'.


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