Whoever. Just somebody whose quotes assassin

outlawz, gift set, assassin, bbs, actresses, sex, softcore, david sedaris, sexy, wikipedia, splash, jarhead(full screen), blogs, unreleased tupac mp3, advertisements, marketing, abuse, perfect name, literary salon, Hell, maybe there are bloggers out there doing that at this convention. If so, point me to them. If not, well, get me a plane ticket and a pass to the Republican Clusterfuck, and I'll do the damn job myself. Never send a blogger to do a wonderchicken's job. [Update : Well, OK, this is pretty quotes damn cool. But I'm stickin' to my knee-jerk contrarian guns, damn it!] [Update 2: Well, besides the Mighty Fafblog, even if I do have my suspicions that Fafnir and Giblets quotes aren't actually there. Still: fafferrific or quotes faffelicious? You decide!] [Update 3: Oh, crap. Me and John Freakin' Dvorak. I'm turning in my decoder ring.] [Update 4: Fuckin' A, Tutor, my old nemesis.] 04:21 PM 12 comments and 5 trackbacks. July 16, 2004 Am I Angry? Do I Hate? Can I Kill? Anal rape of children is bad. This is a sentence that, in the normal course of things, one would think that it would be unnecessary to write.
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Whoever. Just somebody whose panties don't go all damp at the idea of getting spattered with John Edwards' sweat. I don't want to see digital snapshots of you posing with some other blogerati dildo or fawning over some assassin Real Celebrity, framed with a bit of Commentary Lite, damn it. I want you to write something that assassin will make me laugh and weep and want to go and break a bottle over someone's head (or laugh and weep and give somebody an equally random big ol' kiss on the lips), then dance like a tarantula-bitten gypsy. Something to assassin fire me up a bit! I want a Hunter S Thompson, by god, a Mencken, somebody with a bit of rage and a bit of juice in 'em, with too many damn words and a talent for juggling them. Someone who sees the opening, seizes it, then drives a juggernaut of text right through the quivering greasy middle of it, while lesser mortals scatter in fear for their lives.
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