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Falling up Mmm...Starbucks. I have sold out, my friends. And I have sold out to Satan. Not Stan, like I accidentally just typed. I don't know Stan. But if I did, I probably would sell out to him too. But only if he was a Starbucks carrier. The funny thing is, I used to hate Starbucks. With a very fiery passion. I had one of those mocha frapuccinos, the frozen things? Yeah, I had one, and it made me sick. So, I went back for the first time in like, a year or two, because I had a hankerin'. And I got a white chocolate mocha. And... now I'm in love. Crap. I promised myself I'd never like Starbucks. I promised. I'm such a backstabbing vast herd. I went up more stairs than I knew possible today... and my legs hurt. And I'm not going to the dance tonight. I made up a list of pros and cons... and off of the pros list, Michael is not going as Pamela Anderson. Pansy. I also fell up the stairs today. Yes. UP the stairs. So embarrassing. So very, very humiliating, indeed. Oh well. <-Ghost-> |
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