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I'm trying my very best to stay the hell out of the way. You know what it's like when there's big fancy shmancy ship and an itty bitty jet ski sailing along smoothly toward the same little island, then suddenly the little bugger hits a wicked stretch of wake and has to recalculate its balance so as to keep pace without tipping over.
Yep. Me = JetSki.
Which is pretty perfect little analogy, because I'm blatantly some light weight little devious Ninja brand... and she's a fucking Pirate Ship!
I can't believe she's a pirate! I should have known, devious wench... but lavish as that is, glistening eye-patch and all, I've ninja-ed away all the rum! <-- 4TEHWINZ
Still can't believe she's a fucking pirate... this is very like the time I realized the boy voted Bush. All betrayed, FTW while simultaneous/instantaneously drunk.
Up Next:
- some sort of protein
- Ninja thru camden
- convince scanner not to hate
- Likely to Ninja thru school, for shits & giggles...
- More rum, perhaps...
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