I remember reading Fear and Loathing when I was a kid and losing my head. Because I liked the Beats but they didn't sing, not like I was told they would, but here was a guy that said something I understood in a language I didn't need any literary criticism to interpret. He was totally fucked in the head and acknowledged it, and not knowing the
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Good morning, Eliza Dushku.
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What did you do last night?
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Lousy poetry is fun, I saw you on television the other day. You didn't clean your gun.
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Oh, I also spent the morning writing a thesis on the importance of equal opportunity ryan adamses. Christ, I think I should probably hit the sack.
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I'm not heavily invested either way, I'm pretty sure neither's going to acknowledge tearing my heart out of my chest and eating it while I watched or anything, but I had a dream once where two Ryans made out. That's probably not going to happen so I'm thinking mudwrestling or just letting the masses decide may be the best alternative. But way to be industrious, I'd love to read it.
I just now realized you said you'd gotten laid and I'm incredibly jealous now. Thank you KINDLY.
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You're welcome. Though it's kind of common practice as well as common knowledge that's an every night thing for me. You too can get laid at least once nightly, you're Rory Cochrane.
And I bet they'd make out for you if you asked nicely.
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Fine, if I ask nicely and die trying I hope you'll at least write up a nice eulogy for me.
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Oh, alright I'll start practicing today.
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Go to bed, you.
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