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Emptying out a bag I brought to the Assembly that I need to use today, I find it contains:
- wig
- rosin
- replacement waistcoat buttons
- cock
*headdesk*
At least I thought to empty it.
- wig
- rosin
- replacement waistcoat buttons
- cock
*headdesk*
At least I thought to empty it.
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Life is hard.
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(one hopes?)
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*villainfingers*
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in which I take the fifth
*snerk*
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(Ahh, King Missle. The *only* band I ever saw at CBGB's...)
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An old favorite tune that would play in the bar at University whilst we got drunk and talked shit about the universe.
It meant something different then, of course, but it seems apropos.
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Unless you need to go through airport security the day after, which can be embarrassing.
Or like the time some folks staggering home from the party found my corset draped drunkenly over a bush three blocks from the party house. Nobody knows how it got there.
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Are you a girl or a boy?
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