I'm good either way. We all live happily ever after or I get to take the piss out of a few billion dumbstruck and dying primates who emphatically poo poo'd any plans that prioritised a breathable atmosphere over cheap flights to Tenerife
Doing everything exactly opposite from "The Mainstream" is the same thing as doing everything exactly like "The Mainstream." You're still using What Everyone Else is Doing as your primary point of reference.
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It was pretty much this, from 8 until 2, five nights a week.
The other three nights were for gay clubs and early 80s music.
Though a couple of nights a month it was this.
That, sir, is fucking genius. It's like someone put Tebow's brain in Stephen Hawking's body and then had him wrassle bears.
The first verse made me hork coffee out of my nose.
I spoke with my doctor about welbutrin today (I already had an appointment set up) and decided its worth trying e-cigs first before medication.
I'm about to work a fuckload of overtime (8 12 hr midnight shifts followed by 4 more 12 hr day shifts - with a 24 hr break after midnights to 'adjust') so I'm gonna stick with what works until that's over.
In the meantime - I'd appreciate some e-cig brand recommendations. The ones I've tried were the disposable kind and they pretty much suck.
I've often thought I'd prefer an e-cig if it was more like a pipe. The weight of them doesn't feel right if that makes sense.
John Stalvern waited. The lights above him blinked and sparked out of the air. There were pogs in the base. He didn’t see them, but had expected them now for years. His warnings to Cernel Joson were not listenend to and now it was too late. Far too late for now, anyway.
John was a space marine for fourteen years. When he was young he watched the spaceships and he said to dad “I want to be on the ships daddy.”
Dad said “No! You will BE KILL BY POGS”
There was a time when he believed him. Then as he got oldered he stopped. But now in the space station base of the UAC he knew there were pogs.
“This is Joson” the radio crackered. “You must fight the pogs!”
So John gotted his palsma rifle and blew up the wall.
“HE GOING TO KILL US” said the pogs
“I will shoot at him” said the cyberdemon and he fired the rocket missiles. John plasmaed at him and tried to blew him up. But then the ceiling fell and they were trapped and not able to kill.
“No! I must kill the pogs” he shouted
The radio said “No, John. You are the pogs”
And then John was a zombie.