someone just brought back a horrible horrible memory of my early years bearing the name Ghostwriter. auuuuhhh well anyways when i was in the shower i was thinking about this and because i have superpowers while bathing, i remembered another one of those shows
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someone build this, dammit. it is skematics for 'the best paper airplane in the world'. i was a little skeptical of its 'best in the world' until i got to step 18 and threw it in the trash. and then i knew i was right.
right about now its the motherfucking place to be. on the bass i got my main motherfucker called Mooseman. playin them rhythm tracks i got the only and only Infamous D-Rock in the house. on the drums i got the one and only Beat Masta B mothafucka. on lead guitars i got my nigga Ernie C, and I'm Ice mother fucking T, bitch.
hey can someone give me the phone number to the IRS to file my taxes through tele-file. i lost that shit they sent me with the phone number, and its the ONLY place ever that has it.
i needed something to kill time before i went to bed so i did this. there is nothing relevant in here that will change your life so consider it void
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so im driving home from school. i think i was the first one out of the lots towards the backroads. on longfellow i come up over the crest to see a cop speedtrapping right over a hill. i know im gettin bagged so i can pull over even before i see the lights. whatever he comes up to my window and i was doing "37 in a 30" after he did the 'do you know
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