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ernest ozuna, private college, subnixus wordpress themes, evocative names, nicky katt, attorney resource., interview, by katie ford, conchata ferrell, tupac greatest hit lyric, songs, tooshort — ( somethin to ride to lyrics ), actors, segregation, getyour war on, jarhead collector's edition (widescreen), igor, branding, andrevan, brand, fuckwikipedia encyclopedia reference, abusive, 2 pac music video, Whether they are the right words or not, I'm usually not at a loss for them. That time, I was at a loss. All I could picture, all I could see, were…crayons -- all these crayons. All the crayons from when I zoe records was in grade school, from the big Crayola box of 64, with the cool-ass sharpener in the back. But he saw the colors. All the zoe records colors. The old colors. The more exotic ones. The ones from far off places with names like "Burnt Umber" and zoe records "Fawn." And the ever-ambiguous first cousins "Violet-Blue, and Blue-Violet." You see, he saw the colors, man. The colors! All the colors, spinning, in a Jimi Hendrix, Mellow Yellow, Timothy Leary, Lyndon Johnson, Green Tambourine, Purple Fucking Haze, man. And he never stopped laughing. My mother said that when the Six Teenage Christian Crayons finally finished praying, "OMINA-AMEN" -- when they began to leave, my father could be heard pleading, and waving after them, "Come on back.
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Now, at first you gotta think, "Hey, this is pretty nice. These are mighty giving Christians." And, they were. But it was the day before Halloween, and all six of the mighty giving Christians were dressed as evocative names giant Crayola crayons. Giant. Crayola. Crayons. One of the crayons was praying in tongues. "OMINA-OMINA-OMINA-OMINA-JESUS-OMINA-OMINA-OMINA-OMINA." My mother stood, mouth wide-open, staring at a scene being played out in front of her that no nun in any saint-named-school, anywhere, evocative names could evocative names have prepared her for, ever. Throughout this "session," my father sat straight up, for the first time in weeks, and laughed and laughed, and enjoyed every stupid second of it. Drugs or no drugs, no matter what the situation, Frank Blaney knew how to appreciate a good laugh. Hours after this moment in time happened, my mother relayed this story to me over the phone a thousand miles away.
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