Like Linus from those wholly depressing Peanuts cartoons of youth, I began the night firmly attached to the pool table, my big, blue security blanket. By the time I finally dragged my carcass out to the external Noise Gazeebo, lashed uncoordinatedly to the side of Rocks, it was moments before the local boys of Synthetic Nightmare would harangue us
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how ya been?
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dammit.
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Other than that, yeah...it was worth dropping twenties so a few friends could show up for it.
And the chick's name with the red mohawk is Lotus.
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Totally worth a couple sawbucks. Though, with as few people as there actually were for it, I'd be fascinated to find out how well or poorly the take was that night.
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