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Well, this is interesting. Not only did he make some very interesting points, but he called you all my electronic lynch mob. That rules. But can I call you my minions? I really prefer minions. Seriously, it�s not the fact that he had the pictures, really. It�s the fact that he has made such a point of saying that she was a big mistake, and when we see her (she works at a gas station near where I work) he always says what a fat cow she has become and how gross and slutty she is. Now, I don�t know what he says when he�s in the car with his friends and they see her, probably something suitably disgusting like, �I used to hit that,� but truth be told, that�s what I say when I�m in the car with my friends and we see a guy I used to date, or fuck, or whatever. But it has always seemed like a �thou dost protest too much� situation, which I now know it is, seeing as how he has pictures of her in his sock drawer. Well, not anymore he doesn�t, because I brought them downstairs and put them in the bar, which is where he hangs out. He can have them. Whatever. I just don�t want them four feet from where he sleeps. With me. Deep breath. Defensive, anyone? Another installment of my saga is here. Kids are: "Bridge Over Troubled Water" Simon & Garfunkel. My parents' wedding song. Last person who pissed me off: My pea-sized bladder. I just went fifteen minutes ago! Heard in my house: "This is my teddy bear that I got in the hopistal. His name is Mailbox." Miss Anything? pics - 2007-06-05
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