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But wait, there's more.
There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there?
Need a band name?
rant is where the heart is
entry for 2003-03-01 (11:08)
In which our plucky young hero looks for the person within.
She's goth as hell, pale skin and bright red lips and a white stripe in her black-and-red dyed hair. She pulls out a hardbound book of poetry from her bag, and settles her cute panda earmuffs on top of it while she sorts out her gear.
They're Jamaican and full of attitude, walking down the street, loudly talking shit to each other about how tough they are and how much they'd love to beat up their enemies and how stupid everyone else is. One of them, in mid-swagger, bumps into an older woman walking in the other direction with her husband. "I'm sorry," he says, softly and sincerely, in a perfect upper-Canadian accent.
He's sitting at his computer thinking that these are examples of the sort of ironic juxtaposition that demonstrate, golly gee, how you just can't judge people by their appearances and there's just no excuse for being a shallow, surface-minded individual. Then he remembers he hasn't visited Hot Or Not in a while, and decides to open it in another browser window while he finishes this entry.
She's a 7. No, an 8. No, actually, 7. (Everyone else gave her an average 9.5, because she shows a little cleavage.)(Browse: previous or next. Notes: post or read.)
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