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Guest bambam
I just left a party with a bunch of beezies that would have enjoyed my penis. Honestly, they were talking about retarded shit for half an hour, I was standing around, noticing the hungry looks toward my crotch, and I just up and left. I was like: "I'm sorry, I'm going to peace out. Have fun guys." And I up and peaced. It was the most powerful I've ever felt (and I've knocked out a thai mothafuckka boxing (same weight, btw.)). Fuck it. I was not enjoying these people's company so I fucking left them. Fuck them. I will have more fun at home by myself, even if some of them had vaginas I could have penetrated. Fuck that. They were awful people and I feel like a real person for standing up to them. Fuck ugly preppy-ass college dime-a-dozen ass girlies. Ugh.

Give me a real woman with a mind please. Thanks.

@______________@

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my face actually hurts from smiling so much after getting my acceptance letter from syracuse asking me to attend THIS FALL.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSsssss.

...on the real though, returning to school is going to be pretty weird.

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I just left a party with a bunch of beezies that would have enjoyed my penis. Honestly, they were talking about retarded shit for half an hour, I was standing around, noticing the hungry looks toward my crotch, and I just up and left. I was like: "I'm sorry, I'm going to peace out. Have fun guys." And I up and peaced. It was the most powerful I've ever felt (and I've knocked out a thai mothafuckka boxing (same weight, btw.)). Fuck it. I was not enjoying these people's company so I fucking left them. Fuck them. I will have more fun at home by myself, even if some of them had vaginas I could have penetrated. Fuck that. They were awful people and I feel like a real person for standing up to them. Fuck ugly preppy-ass college dime-a-dozen ass girlies. Ugh.

Give me a real woman with a mind please. Thanks.

"I up and peaced"

I like that. i'm gonna try and use it in a phrase today.

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So i had an awkward day with the korean, much different than the day we spent after the smashing. She bled during, I would bet on her not lying about her virginity. The guy friend actually ended up coming by and seemed pretty cool. But damn, I had to call her out on her awkwardness, not sure if I'm even feeling it anymore. There's a slight sense of an obligation to give her a chance, after taking her v-card.

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real bad michael jackson

got my balls hurt real bad today playing basketball.

now im mad, real mad joe jackson

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I actually like some of the shit that jean pierre Mattei is doing. That waistcoat has some potential and the pants look like they have good intentions. plus, he has the matching mask for that fit!!!!!!

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I had a dream that Daul and I cuddled in the back row of economy class, crashed in Idaho and lived, frolicked in a huge park, then hung out in this Korean-infested Idaho mining town with dirt roads. It was like an old western town but had tons of Korean neon signs and supercars driving everywhere.

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I had a dream that Daul and I cuddled in the back row of economy class, crashed in Idaho and lived, frolicked in a huge park, then hung out in this Korean-infested Idaho mining town with dirt roads. It was like an old western town but had tons of Korean neon signs and supercars driving everywhere.

Someone please make this into a movie.

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I've lost my mind and sent the following:

Here's how I see it: you make me better. You'll provide me with the energy and the impetus I need for greatness. I will do great things in the hopes of impressing you, and maybe you will want to impress me, too. We will help each other to understand this stupid, wondrous world, which we both love so much. You'll help me be more compassionate and loving and I'll help give you direction and organization. You'll write searingly honest letters that I will strip of excess sentiment, and you will inject some much-needed humanity and warmth into every cold and rigorous thing that I write. Sometimes we'll be poor, but we'll always eat well; we'll live off of baguettes and cereal and fresh fruits and vegetables and phở and sometimes barbecue when we don't have money. We'll try on fancy clothes and go window-shopping and end up at IKEA. We'll go to museums on free nights and use our student IDs to their fullest advantage. When we have money to burn, we'll eat at restaurants with prix fixe and buy all sorts of fancy things. We'll go see concerts and concertos and operas and buy works of art to decorate our tastefully modern living space. We'll attend parties rife with socialites and tell them stories about Haruki Murakami and Wong Kar-wai and William Gibson and Vietnam, where there are no rules and where we haven't been but where we will go one day, once the regime has fallen. We'll dazzle everyone we meet. You'll come to New York and I'll come to LA and we'll go to San Francisco and Austin and all our friends will become friends with one another and everyone will wonder how it was that they didn't know each other all along. Sometimes I feel that way about you, em. We'll be con artists on the run from the law, pretending sometimes to be brother and sister, other times to be husband and wife, and we'll be so good at what we do that we ourselves won't be able to tell the difference. We'll be playwrights because we understand English and people and the way they communicate and behave better than anyone else and we'll write critically lauded works that are commercially successful enough that our parents will proudly tell their friends that we are writers. I'll be a talk-show host and you will be a poet whose works are taught in schools. We'll look forward to the winter because wearing clothes is so fun in the wintertime but we'll look forward to summer because then we can go to the beach and loll around in the sun all day, turning a wonderful shade of brown because we're Vietnamese and that is the color we are naturally. It will seem to people that everything comes easily for us because of our natural grace and charm but they won't realize that sometimes we had to work really hard at it. And sometimes when our life affords us a well-deserved moment of rest, when things slow down enough that we can lie together on the couch and listen as Bach streams through the living room, you will ask me while playing with a lock of my hair, "What next?" and I will tell you the same thing that I will tell you now: I don't know what happens next, but I know that we'll do it better with each other.

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I've lost my mind and sent the following:

Here's how I see it: you make me better. You'll provide me with the energy and the impetus I need for greatness. I will do great things in the hopes of impressing you, and maybe you will want to impress me, too. We will help each other to understand this stupid, wondrous world, which we both love so much. You'll help me be more compassionate and loving and I'll help give you direction and organization. You'll write searingly honest letters that I will strip of excess sentiment, and you will inject some much-needed humanity and warmth into every cold and rigorous thing that I write. Sometimes we'll be poor, but we'll always eat well; we'll live off of baguettes and cereal and fresh fruits and vegetables and phở and sometimes barbecue when we don't have money. We'll try on fancy clothes and go window-shopping and end up at IKEA. We'll go to museums on free nights and use our student IDs to their fullest advantage. When we have money to burn, we'll eat at restaurants with prix fixe and buy all sorts of fancy things. We'll go see concerts and concertos and operas and buy works of art to decorate our tastefully modern living space. We'll attend parties rife with socialites and tell them stories about Haruki Murakami and Wong Kar-wai and William Gibson and Vietnam, where there are no rules and where we haven't been but where we will go one day, once the regime has fallen. We'll dazzle everyone we meet. You'll come to New York and I'll come to LA and we'll go to San Francisco and Austin and all our friends will become friends with one another and everyone will wonder how it was that they didn't know each other all along. Sometimes I feel that way about you, em. We'll be con artists on the run from the law, pretending sometimes to be brother and sister, other times to be husband and wife, and we'll be so good at what we do that we ourselves won't be able to tell the difference. We'll be playwrights because we understand English and people and the way they communicate and behave better than anyone else and we'll write critically lauded works that are commercially successful enough that our parents will proudly tell their friends that we are writers. I'll be a talk-show host and you will be a poet whose works are taught in schools. We'll look forward to the winter because wearing clothes is so fun in the wintertime but we'll look forward to summer because then we can go to the beach and loll around in the sun all day, turning a wonderful shade of brown because we're Vietnamese and that is the color we are naturally. It will seem to people that everything comes easily for us because of our natural grace and charm but they won't realize that sometimes we had to work really hard at it. And sometimes when our life affords us a well-deserved moment of rest, when things slow down enough that we can lie together on the couch and listen as Bach streams through the living room, you will ask me while playing with a lock of my hair, "What next?" and I will tell you the same thing that I will tell you now: I don't know what happens next, but I know that we'll do it better with each other.

Dude. Shut the fuck up.

Rule number one of being a pimp: Do it don't say it.

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I had a dream that Daul and I cuddled in the back row of economy class, crashed in Idaho and lived, frolicked in a huge park, then hung out in this Korean-infested Idaho mining town with dirt roads. It was like an old western town but had tons of Korean neon signs and supercars driving everywhere.

i dream this every night

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i wish i was still at yesterday night's party. "1 bottle of champagne bought = 1 offered". i came with 5€ to the party, didn't even spend it, when i arrived there was already enough to make everyone drunk. i even found a free bike on the way back and felt like crashing at a girl friend but i think i fell asleep watching tv...

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Today I've heard a grown woman who couldn't spell her last name, watched a cute doggie die on the sidewalk, and thrown away a teddy bear, and all before 12 noon.

It's been a very sad day :,(

*edit- add landho's love letter to the list

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