the BRUTAL, UGLY truth of my FABULOUS, BEAUTIFUL life.
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6:36 p.m. + 2004-08-14 = a freakishly sudden change in plans.
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Romantica [think Wallflowers meets John Mayer fronted by a man that puts on a really thick and fucked up canadian [newfoundlandish] accent though he is minnesotan through and through] is also playing, as is a band i have never heard of and probably won't like since the name of which i have already forgotten despite looking at the flier 10 minutes ago. This means that i can cameo and donate 2bucks or 4 for cheap beer at the keggerfundraiser and walk away with the piece of mind that me drinking is the best way by which i am able to "do something for my country," and then on toward the 7th street entry to see Michael and introduce myself to Owen of C4PA.
i sure hope that my name had been mentioned in his presence more than once so i don't come across as complete idiot [savant].
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comments?? --->[thisaway]--->[[looks to me as though there are...]]---> 0 repercussions thus far
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[prologue] *** [epilogue] ***[plottwist!]
[[erstwhile]] ***** [[forthwith]]