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Thinking about Gabbard in general, my animal instinct is to flatten my ears against my head, roll my eyes up till the whites show, bare my teeth, and trill like a cicada stuck in a Commodore 64.

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Started by the dreadful hours, January 16, 2012, 02:11:43 PM

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the dreadful hours

this sunny, cold, dry morning
reminds me of that day
a time of great reckoning
when with great tragedy
i forgot to put a stamp on the fuel oil bill.