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But wait, there's more.

There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there?

Join codebastards, I dare you. Remember, codebastards are us.

I'm baded and jitter. So are these people. (And why not follow the previous, next, or random links?)

Need a band name?

Doug vs. Japanese Snack Foods: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

rant is where the heart is

diaryland: entry for 2000-12-18 (12:12:39)
In which our plucky young hero is logical, after a sense.

A few thoughts before I try to decide between wake and sleep. Actual personal stuff, for a change. Be stunned. (No, that's more of a shock than a stun. Yeah, that's more like.)

I just realized that my last few relationships have all involved a band that I really, really like. As a result, a whole bunch of stuff carries baggage. Not a lot of it, not a crippling burden that weighs down my soul and crushes the life out of me or anything like that, but enough that I've got a pang or two when I listen to some songs or think of some moments. The aftermath of our song, so to speak.

And so, I've decided that my next relationship will be with someone whose music, television, books, politics, and religion are totally alien to me, if not actively hostile. That way, when we break up, I'll never again see or hear anything that reminds me of her. I think this plan cannot possibly fail.

Archconservative born-again Christian girls with a thing for N'Sync, Jackie Collins, and Three's Company, now's your time!

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[fiendish tracking device]