Lately I've been thinking that my parents perhaps raised me in the wrong way. Though, to be fair, I can hardly blame it on them. It's not their fault I've turned out the way I have. I could blame the culture or the media or the Man, but why bother? I prefer to call it a phenomenon of strange and wondrous proportions
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Of course, I only used my powers for goodness and niceness, never for evil and rottenness.
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My forging ability isn't quite at the level where the world will have to worry about what I choose to do with it, but I'm hoping to get there soon.
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Because, really, I'd recommend the Italian Mafia. Sicily is much prettier than New York.
I'm a pretty good forger too. I can do my parentss and most of my teachers'. :D
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Have fun this week! :)
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