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Go Audi and Corvette.
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I though that I could be somebody
Looks like I was wrong I thought that I could make my mark but I'm afraid I've waited much too long Where is my American Splendor? In a world that's cloudy and gray? Will life keep passing by me day by day? |
I'm not doing much right now apart from Mr Shrub threatening to bash my face in again.
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First up; I'd say Sasha is a female lady of the woman type.
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She has a cat named Paco.
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The cat is a Siamese, but I don't know if that has any bearing on Karl boffing her.
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Now, it seems that Sasha has what looks like a daughter.
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Kahl, is that a problem?
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She is a furry. :eek
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She is quite bad at poetry and knows it. She likes to Jamesman up her stuff every few years.
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User names found so far: creeposaurus, Level7dinosaurmage, thenotoriousone, froggystain, and a few others that seem inactive like atomkiller and kamikazemouse.
Anyway, I have her address and phone number if you're keen, Kahl. |
I was going to remark on how surprisingly creepy that was, until your link allowed me to see her poetry and I was immediately snapped away from HUMAN mode
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Ladies and gentlemen, a magic trick. I will now pull a poem out of my ass, and it will be superior to every pathetic poem ever posted to deviantart
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Yearning, fighting, screaming, done.
Wells of hours ending; Our lives content in hallowed streams With the rebels gently dreaming. Who knows what thoughts of men will burn From searing, blackened skies? What cost of promised holy gold, when pried from living eyes? Firemasked gods and brooding dolls with swords of porcelain ring- the waters rise, the cities drown, and the laughing bird will sing. |
abracadabra. Three goddamn minutes.
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Gus, you are a talented chap. What is there even being a reason for you rubbing shoulders with someone like me. :eek
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It's because he's a man of the people! Just not the stupid and retarded ones.
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No poetry is ever good, sorry.
"Poet" is actually an old Indian word that means "fucking wanker," and this is how I choose to interpret it whenever someone I meet claims to be a "poet." You folks could improve your life quality tenfold if you simply urinated on every poem that crossed your path, rather than reading it. Yes, that's right, perfumed stationary, tell me all about those wistful summer days of yore. Tell me right into my dick. |
There is plenty of good poetry, you self-righteous delusional fag.
You only get to call yourself a poet when you get paid for it and even then you should be so fucking ashamed of that. Fucking 'writers' piss me right the fuck off. |
Hey.
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haha
i thought poets never got paid and died without anybody ever caring about them or having any respect for them |
True story. Goddamn poets. >:
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:pagebrak
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