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That line from the father's song in Mary Poppins, where he's going on about how nothing can go wrong, in Britain in 1910.  That's about the point I realized the boy was gonna die in a trench.

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EXECUTIVE HOTEL ORGY! WOOOOOOO!

Started by Shibboleet The Annihilator, February 23, 2010, 08:27:15 PM

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I am not "full of hate" as if I were some passive container. I am a generator of hate, and my rage is a renewable resource, like sunshine.