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So essentially, the enemy of my enemy is not my friend, he's just another moronic, entitled turd in the bucket.

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reapercussion

Started by the dreadful hours, July 20, 2009, 08:45:26 PM

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the dreadful hours

i recall
sitting on the floor
in the middle of the kitchen
pots and pans everywhere
wooden spoons and rolling pins
mother standing near
with affectionate approval
amidst the childish cacophany
the joy to bash and clang

and now

those days are but splinters and rust