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mwahahamayhem23
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mwahahamayhem23
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emptying
Patrick.
convict
You're a convict. What is your crime? You tell me. What's something you haven't done wrong? Flaws, that is your crime. Since you are not perfect, you are being convicted of a crime. Once you become perfect your sentence will be over. Once every mistake you have been made is fixed. You're a convict. Convicted of being imperfect.
capture
You've captured my heart With the help of cupid's golden arrows. You're captured my soul With your charming smile. You've captured my laughing, With your hilariousness. You've captured me, With your blatant personality.
catcher
I'd always sit in the bleachers watching the game, the pitches making their throws. I'd watch the people who'd catch the missed throws, their names always forgotten in the excitement of the experience. I'd watch the catches made in the outfield, when I'd always think that the hit was going to be a home run. The catcher always had a way of making the game end.
trunk
I saw it, it was in the trunk of you car. I stopped for a moment and stared wondering. Why? Why the hell would you have all of that in your car? Then I thought about it. Really thought about it. It makes perfect sense. You're a guy after all. Just, really? The trunk of your car, The boos The condoms, And I'm pretty sure I gave you that banana last week.
trunk
I saw it, it was in the trunk of you car. I stopped for a moment and stared wondering. Why? Why the hell would you have all of that in your car? Then I thought about it. It makes perfect sense. You're a guy after all. Just, really? The trunk of your car, The boos The condoms, And I'm pretty sure I gave you that banana last week.
pageant
Pageants, watching girls flaunt their talents and beauty. It's like a barbie show case, little girls would go crazy seeing their life sized barbies walking around. They'd be yelling , "Mommy! Mommy! I want that one." I'm glad I was never a pageant type of girl.
staple
Ouch. I guess I didn't realize I had stapled the fucking essay to my hand. I guess you are what you eat... but wait, I don't eat trees or paper. You can't digest that shit. I guess what they say is true, I'm as absent minded as a possum. If that even makes sense.