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 Writings from the Mind of Cassandra

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a fatal life.
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PostSubject: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Wed Mar 26, 2008 9:06 pm

Well, just a warning, I tend to write slash, mostly non-graphic; the worst I usually write is just some boykisses. ^-^

My Isolated Author - Dune Trace/Vanete Druse, my usual original slash pairing

It was late at night and he was up again, in the room adjacent to our own, the computer room. Even though the sound the fast, heavy keyboard tapping woke me from a gentle slumber, I was hardly mad, because if I closed my eyes and just listened, I could see exactly what was going on in that room.

The computer would be emitting a blinding white glare as he stared straight ahead, hunched slightly, words emerging fast on the digital page. His slender, pale fingers would be relentless in their key tapping, pausing only every now and then to take a sip from the mug filled with his drink of choice, or to crack the strained knuckles. Those raven locks I adore so very much would be a mess, and his eyeliner would be smeared heavily around those jade eyes of his. But he could hardly care less; the only thing that could possibly matter at the moment was getting it all down, the perfect story.

But of course it was perfect, for he was Vanete Druse, the celebrated author. His skill laid purely down in those long, slender fingers of his, fingers I kissed and rubbed after a long days work.

Opening my eyes, I turned on the bedside lamp, knowing not to bother him in his almost zen like state. I yawned, and stretched, rubbing my eyes and tousling my own dirty blonde curls. Not a sound was made as I pulled on a comfortable pair of worn jeans, the closest Volcom shirt, and my shoes. My skateboard was grabbed, and I tiptoed my way downstairs, as to not disturb the genius in making.

My board hit the slab of concrete with a waking slap, and my foot gently started to guide it to the neighborly skating rink, which was deserted at this time of night. With the chilly night wind racing through my layered hair, my skating went on autopilot as I let my mind wander.

We were definitely an odd couple, the professional skater and the critically acclaimed author. I was tall, lean, slender, the boy you’d find skateboarding on a California board walk. He was slightly shorter, skinny, and with his girl jeans and black eyeliner, along with the perfectly messy black hair, he could easily be mistaken as a rock star. And yet, here we were, together, living in the same house, sleeping in the same bed.

And I was loving every minute of it. Sure, there were his late nights, and also when he accidently woke me up in the middle of the night, like so. However, that hardly affected anything. I was very forgiving, especially since the deserted skate park and the cooling air was so very relaxing, some kind of safe haven where I could come and not run into anybody, not have to sign autographs, and just think. Think about my relationship. My next tour. Everything that could stress me out somehow didn’t when I was here, in my element, in my freedom.

Panting, I stopped and sat at the edge of the bowl. I had no clue how long I had been there, or if Vanete would be done whatever typing he had to do. I shook my head, feeling slightly overheated, the warm feeling you get right after you throw up and you’re leaning against the cold porcelain of the tub beside you.

My hands were now slightly shaking, and I was unsure whether it was because the cold was now setting in or because of exhaustion, but it made me decide that going back home would be best. Of course, since I was now sweaty from my skating I’d probably have to take a shower first before returning to the now cold bed. I could only hope he’d be done by then, knowing that if he was he’d be my human teddy bear, someone to hold and cuddle up against, our hearts beating against each other’s chest.

Even anti-social authors need affection, and as I am stripping to get into the shower, I realize that I will always be there to shower love onto my own otherwise isolated author.

---

Wow, this was written a while ago. And I'm still putting it places. I would write something new, but it's currently 11 PM and I really need to get off the computer since I'm getting up at 3 AM for a car ride, but I just really wanted to make this thread to kind of like, support this forum and ahh...I'm rambling. I should get some sleep. So, sorry for the repeat. I'll try to have something new up soon.
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Thu Mar 27, 2008 6:36 pm

yay!!!! thank you SO much for posting these here! i love this pairing and i love the way you write them!

i'm reposting should have been me, if you want to take a look. you'll have read what i have up so far, but you can comment anyway Very Happy.

_________________
My typing fingers are the portal to my soul
--Samantha Cullen
If you wanna scream, scream loudly
--Lilly Cullen
Friends don't put friends on their hitlists
--yours truly
Veni, Vidi, Visa... I came, I saw, I did a little shopping...
--Fumbling towards Ecstasy

contact me at inkdrinkersunite@gmail.com if you need anything.
see our blog at: http://inkdrinkersunite.blogspot.com/
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a fatal life.
being touched by a plot bunny


Female Number of posts : 14
Age : 22
Location : Spencer's Dreamland
Registration date : 2008-03-26

PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Fri Mar 28, 2008 4:46 pm

Of course. I saw the link in your signature, so I assumed you'd want me to join and spread my Dune and Vanete love. ^-^ I'm so glad you enjoy this pair, I'm currently writing a book about them, but I'm keeping that hush-hush for now. We'll see if I actually finish it, though I'm doing pretty good so far.

And I will, I promise. I love Jamie and Edward. *skips off to go comment Should Have Been Me*
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Female Number of posts : 377
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Humor : silence is golden; duct tape is silver...
Registration date : 2008-03-19

PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Sat Mar 29, 2008 3:26 pm

i did indeed. thanks for taking the hint!

ooh, a book Shocked. i can't wait to read it Very Happy! you'd better finish it! and then you need to publish it, and then i can read it, and then i can be happy!

_________________
My typing fingers are the portal to my soul
--Samantha Cullen
If you wanna scream, scream loudly
--Lilly Cullen
Friends don't put friends on their hitlists
--yours truly
Veni, Vidi, Visa... I came, I saw, I did a little shopping...
--Fumbling towards Ecstasy

contact me at inkdrinkersunite@gmail.com if you need anything.
see our blog at: http://inkdrinkersunite.blogspot.com/
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Sun Mar 30, 2008 8:53 am

Wow, that is REALLY good! You don't find many decent authors on the internet these days (Anne, of course, is an exception Very Happy) but you are brilliant! I'd love to read something like that if it ever came out as a book. I envy you if you can push yourself enough to finish it Razz
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Mon Mar 31, 2008 3:57 pm

Love it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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a fatal life.
being touched by a plot bunny


Female Number of posts : 14
Age : 22
Location : Spencer's Dreamland
Registration date : 2008-03-26

PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Fri Apr 04, 2008 1:35 pm

Storyteller - Dune Trace/Vanete Druse

Books for walls, is what his living room had. Books for walls. The only other time so many books were stacked in one place was in the library, or so I’ve seen. Such an avid reader, he was, and a feeling in my gut told me he had read the majority of the books that caught my eye, if not all of them. “I got it from my mother,” He told me once, as our fingertips dared to stain the spine with gentle brushes, his touch more like a caress than anything else, and I could tell how fond he was of them, of those books that lay before him, silently pleading them with their titles to read them once more. “She loves to read. Some of these books are from when she was a child.” I didn’t ask which ones. I didn’t have to. It showed in the yellow pages, the broken covers, the cracked glue. He saw me looking curiously, and smiled. “Take a book, and if you want, I could read it to you.” I hated reading and he knew it from our tutoring sessions. The first day he read a passage to me aloud, as a way to be easier on me. His higher pitched voice moved through the words like music, chirping in my head long after he had finished reading. Ever since, I was hooked, and he could tell. He simply knew, just the way I knew that I loved him, so easily and obviously.

I selected my book and sat down next to him, handing it over. It was a small paperback, with papers falling out as the glue had dried up and slowly, one by one, began to let the pages that it had so precariously gripped, slip away from its sticky hands. He opened up to the first page and began to read, as I let the words slip away from my mind, leaving only his voice, and even the slight imperfections that left it far from velvet did not dissuade me. I loved it and I loved him, and he knew it all, just like he knew most things, a seemingly hard and irrelevant task to most, like myself. Yet, the quiet confidence that radiated from him once a book was placed into the palms of his tiny, pale hands was almost too much to soak in, no matter how many times I have seen and felt and noticed it. Beautiful, it was, seeing the confidence in him shine out through him like a lightbulb being turned on from the inside of him. The shy, nervous boy I once knew seemed different once the confidence turned up, but not in a bad way. It was never a bad way.

He paused and I watched him take a sip of water, the plump, ruby red lips he used to mold words pressed against the glass, water slipping between them as he drank. A rosy blush arose in his cheeks, as through an invisible painter hovered in front of us, brushing red onto his fair cheeks as he noticed my eyes watching him. I averted them to please him, not wishing to embarrass him from my staring. He wasn’t one for attention and that was something I knew. He began to read again and I was paralyzed, not from fear, but from amazement as the invisible painter danced pictures straight from the book in front of my eyes with his words. A soft, content smile pressed itself onto my face, and I could see him stealing glances at my peaceful expression with his own smile. He stopped and this look was softened, distorted, and I looked curiously at him, but he was getting up and putting the book back on the shelf, precisely from where I got it, even though I could see no order in which they were placed. “Now you know why I read,” He said, watching me from the shelf. I shook my head. No, I didn’t. It wasn’t the same. I thought he would have known that. “Part of it is to get away from my own reality. But another part is to be in touch with it, to be able to relax and rejoin life as if I were never gone. Don’t you feel this way as I read to you?”

“I do,” I said, without even thinking. It was the truth. He did know, but it still wasn’t the same. He didn’t have someone read to him, someone with a magical voice that made words come alive and sing songs from different time periods, cultures, and lifestyles that I otherwise would never have visited in the pages of dusty, time worn books. He seemed to know this, and nodded once more, sitting back down on the seat next to me, taking my hand with such slight fingers, I was almost fearful that I would break them with a single grip. “When you read to me, it’s different. I can’t explain it.”

“Try.”

“I just...can’t.” I shook my head. Not now. Possibly not ever. “There aren’t words to describe it. At least, no words I know. My vocabulary isn’t as impressive as yours’.” But it wasn’t about that, it was about how to convey the idea to him in the right way, and he seemed to understand I couldn’t do that, and so he squeezed my fingers and planted a kiss upon my cheek.

“In time, my love. In time.” He let my fingers go and stood up, leaving me to my thoughts, though I knew he’d be back.

In time, my love. In time.

If only the both of us could wait that long.
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Sat Apr 05, 2008 5:02 pm

yay! a new one that i haven't read yet Very Happy! and it's about books too! i love books! and this was amazing, as always. i love how you pain the characters without ever once using their names. fabulous work!

_________________
My typing fingers are the portal to my soul
--Samantha Cullen
If you wanna scream, scream loudly
--Lilly Cullen
Friends don't put friends on their hitlists
--yours truly
Veni, Vidi, Visa... I came, I saw, I did a little shopping...
--Fumbling towards Ecstasy

contact me at inkdrinkersunite@gmail.com if you need anything.
see our blog at: http://inkdrinkersunite.blogspot.com/
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a fatal life.
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Female Number of posts : 14
Age : 22
Location : Spencer's Dreamland
Registration date : 2008-03-26

PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Tue Apr 08, 2008 1:58 pm

I know you love Dune and Vanete, but...new characters!

Hopefully, you'll enjoy. I'm attempting to mix things up here.

Wonders and Rambles - Aubrey Dessgray/Gabriel Kinnear

People have wondered. “Why,” They whispered to one another in crowded metropolis areas, “Why would anyone make a game out of killing?” They didn’t see it for its worth, its morbid sense of curiosity, accompanied with intellect far beyond astounding boundaries and the aura of superiority that which he held himself with. He was above them, yet he needed them, without ever giving the slightest of hints as to the fact, nevertheless the why behind it. No, he was much too proud to ever admit such a thing. After all, he was the creator of The Game, a vicious, blood lust of a game if there ever was, one to put the shows in the Colosseum to shame. He had always admired the Romans, with their impressive intelligence and gory thirst for all things violent. If there ever was such a thing as reincarnation, surely one of his past lives had to do with the Roman Empire. Why, was this not enough cause for pride?

The hunt, the find, the take. The catchphrase of his online advertisement. The catchphrase of his life. He was forever hunting his latest victim, finding them so brutally helpless once trapped within the last seconds of the ever ticking clock disguised as their disgustingly pathetic lives, taking them out of their misery with great pleasure. A hobby turned profession for young souls having not yet developed their pea sized brains into full fledged intellect. Over the course of eight months, strangers with dull lives mysteriously died and people with hidden desires were revealed to the public, to their friends, families, and lovers. He was once told all human life was sacred. Not a second passed that he put one ounce of faith into that statement; if it were true, why did people die every day? Why did fathers, mothers, sons, brothers, daughters, sisters, lovers, and friends die each and every day if life were just that sacred? No, it was but a game that was utterly useless, and, being a player himself, intended on indulging himself if there was absolutely nothing to look forward to but Death itself. Games were all Life was, and he was always a winner.

“You know, Aubrey, this game doesn’t sound like such a smart idea. What if we get caught?” Oh how beautiful the younger boy was as he played naive, waves of crimson locks like blood stained fur hiding freckled skin and innocent eyes of emerald jewels. Aubrey almost smiled as he watched him, clucking his tongue and shaking his head, ignoring the mahogany strands that fell into cess pool colored eyes, set in an ivory toned heart shaped face, handsome despite the mask by which his eyes wore as a precaution for anyone, especially the redhead that dare question him, who got close enough to be able to read the weight of his uncaring thoughts.

“Now, now, Gabriel. You act as if we have just met. Do you think I will let us get caught?” A head shake, a ghost of a smile fixed on plump, pink lips. “That is what I thought. We will plan and play and everyone, police included, will never be the wiser.”

The one called Gabriel looked up into Aubrey’s good looks and could read no sign of uncertainty or self doubt, only intelligence and pride, both comforting to the freshly turned adult. “Aubrey?”

“Yes?”

“I...trust you on this.”

“I know, Gabriel.”

The younger of the two leaned forward and kissed the mastermind behind it all, the whole thing passionate yet emotionless for both men’s interest. Business partners posing as a gay couple for the sake of the lack of legitimacy that must accompany a business. Convincingly, they were, parts of their act eerily routine and almost comforting to Aubrey, who didn’t understand comfort in a harsh and unforgiving world.
‘It is simply an act,’ He tried to vain to persuade himself. ‘An act for our safety.’

He had just begun to believe his thoughts when Gabriel stroked his cheeks and pecked his lips one more, before exiting the room.
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Female Number of posts : 377
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Humor : silence is golden; duct tape is silver...
Registration date : 2008-03-19

PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Tue Apr 08, 2008 8:22 pm

i like them too. i love how your writing changes when you write about them. it's less flowery, far more to the point, yet without nearly as many details. it's interesting to compare them to vanete and dune. and i liked this story. it was in your face and unsubtle without being needlessly graphic. great job!

_________________
My typing fingers are the portal to my soul
--Samantha Cullen
If you wanna scream, scream loudly
--Lilly Cullen
Friends don't put friends on their hitlists
--yours truly
Veni, Vidi, Visa... I came, I saw, I did a little shopping...
--Fumbling towards Ecstasy

contact me at inkdrinkersunite@gmail.com if you need anything.
see our blog at: http://inkdrinkersunite.blogspot.com/
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Tue Apr 29, 2008 4:12 pm

Yea
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Sat May 31, 2008 11:27 am

Okay so, I haven't been on in a long, long time.

But I do come bearing an update.

I think someone slipped me drugs, because I ended up writing this:

The Infamous Condom - Leslie/Valery, Dune/Vanete, Bliz/Juki, and Stanton/Lori

Stanton Graham would be lying if he said he wasn't sexually active. But he would also be lying if he said he wasn't safe each and every time, because he sure was not going to become a father at age sixteen.

Honestly, his pockets of a certain pair of jeans hated him. Really, they did. So far, his wallet had fallen out twice, and his cell phone had met the ground five times. Five. And so he knew that the condom would, more than likely, fall out in front of his teachers, all of which were rather strict and would, no doubt, love to place him in detention.

That was why he asked Leslie, very politely, if she could hold said condom in her purse. Getting a cell confiscated was one thing, but Stanton was very, very worried for his parents' reactions at the knowledge that he was engaging in sexual activities with his lovely girlfriend, Lori, that they otherwise enjoyed. If he had known that the little square of tin foil would create such a chain reaction, he would have left the damned thing at home. But how was he to know?

"You know, my purse isn't a house for everyone's shit," Leslie sighed as she opened the top latch, "I swear, I have more of my friends' shit in here than my own."

Stanton laughed, placing the condom inside. "Thanks, Leslie. I didn't want my parents finding it while I was at school."

"Lori usually supplying the rubber?"

"Yeah, her parents aren't as nosy as mine."

Leslie nodded, understanding. They split ways, saying their goodbyes as Leslie headed to English and Stanton headed to Algebra.

The English teacher, Mrs. Garven, was known to be the strictest of them all, and very set in her old-fashioned ways. There were rumors going around that, ever since Vanete and Dune had come out, that she had continuously been attempting to fail the both of them. Also, this was rumored to be the reason that she had moved them as far away as she could.

But that didn't mean Leslie didn't sit near Dune. Really, he sat two seats up, and she could see the back of his head rather clearly. Lucky Vanete, She had thought on more than one occasion, But I'm luckier.

"Hey, can I have a piece of gum?" Leslie's girlfriend, Valery, questioned. Nodding, Leslie handed over her purse, forgetting all about the unlucky condom.

Valery gasped. "Leslie Mitchell! Are you...are you cheating on me?"

"What?"

"There's a fucking condom in here!"

The door opened with a snap and Mrs. Garven strolled in, bringing with her instant quiet. Shaking her head, Leslie hurriedly wrote down on a note: Not mine! I'm holding it for someone.

Valery pouted and Leslie sighed. I don't need it, I swear. Here, I'll show you.

With that, she grabbed the foil and threw her pencil two seats ahead of her, slapping the condom onto Dune's desk. "Take it."

Confused, Dune looked at it. Unfortunately for him, so did Mrs. Garven. "Mr. Trace! Do you know that the condom in your hand is sufficient evidence to call your parents and tell them you're sexually active with Mr. Druse?" She stalked up the aisle, snatching the foil square out of a very confused Dune's hand. "Detention. And that goes for both Miss Mitchell and Mr. Druse as well."

Leslie and Vanete stared with open mouths but were unable to fight their innocence because the bell rang. Lunch was next, where the four teens met up with Stanton, Lori, and their other two friends, Bliz and Juki.

"It's so unfair," moaned Leslie after Dune had finished explaining the whole thing. "Vanete and I didn't do anything!"

"Correction, Vanete didn't do anything. You did give Dune the condom," Bliz noted and Leslie glared. Vanete blushed.

Juki found the whole thing absolutely hilarious. "Vanete, you go detention because bitter ol' Garvvies thinks you're fucking the hot skater we all know she lusts after," He wiggled his eyebrows at the pair, resulting in Vanete's usually pale face resembling a tomato.

However, he pulled himself together in order to say cheekily, "She better stay away from my hot skater."

"Thatta boy! Defend your meat! I mean..." Juki grinned at Bliz sheepishly, kissing his cheek. "Defend your love."

Vanete rolled his eyes, picking at his food.

"I can't believe you guys lost my condom though, in the first hour."

"Oh, fuck you, Stanton. It's not my goddamn fault so suck it up. It's not like that was your last condom ever, anyways."

"Actually, it was your fault."

"Fuck. You."

The bell, once more, interrupted the argument. As Dune and Vanete shuffled off to Science and Leslie, Valery, and Stanton bickered their way to History, Bliz, Juki, and Lori found themselves in English, with a very pissy Mrs. Garven breathing down their necks.

"Mr. Jester, would you please see me at my desk?" Surprised, the teen bounded up to the desk, multi-colored hair bouncing gently.

"Yes, Mrs. Garven?"

"You see, Juki, this is obviously not a very good response..." Juki found himself tuning her out, and then his eyes noticed something. The condom sat right on her desk, next to his papers! He could totally get it back for Stanton.

"Yeah, okay, I get it," Juki said, interrupting Mrs. Garven, "Why don't I take it back and correct it?"

The English teacher, unaccustomed to Juki actually offering to do extra work, even for his grade, nodded. "Yes, that would be wonderful."

Before she could hand it to him, the flamboyant boy snatched it up, condom and all, before stalking back to his desk.

With a triumphant grin, he quickly shoved the condom in his pocket...

Only to forget all about it as he threw his jeans into the dirty clothes. Clumsily, he had spilled root beer on his jeans, so now he dragged on a pair of Care Bear pajama pants, not knowing his mother was raiding his laundry.

"JUKI!" His mother shrieked, making the teen jump, nearly throwing his half pint of strawberry ice cream.

"Yeah, mom?" He asked as he rounded the corner, stopping dead as he saw the shiny foil square in her palm. Oh, shit.

"I think we need to have a talk, Jukes."

Groaning, Juki rolled his eyes and said, "Mom, I know, okay? It's not mine, anyways. It's my friend's."

Hiding her smile, his mom shook her head. "I'm sure your father would be more than happy to talk. But we will, Juki. Really. You need to know."

"Whatever, mom." Juki waved his hand in the air and walked back to his ice cream; however, he picked up the phone, turning down the inane chatter of the television. "Dude, you'll never guess what just happened..."
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Humor : silence is golden; duct tape is silver...
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Sat May 31, 2008 2:59 pm

lol, that was amazing! i love reading about them while they're still in school. it's a nice counterpoint to the angst of their adult lives.
drugs? if you say so. i'd've said sugar and a weird mood, but i'm not you Razz.

yay for the update! will you be on again with more?

_________________
My typing fingers are the portal to my soul
--Samantha Cullen
If you wanna scream, scream loudly
--Lilly Cullen
Friends don't put friends on their hitlists
--yours truly
Veni, Vidi, Visa... I came, I saw, I did a little shopping...
--Fumbling towards Ecstasy

contact me at inkdrinkersunite@gmail.com if you need anything.
see our blog at: http://inkdrinkersunite.blogspot.com/


Last edited by Queen of Angst on Thu Jun 05, 2008 12:08 pm; edited 1 time in total
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KenshinLillith_Lovett
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Location : Never, Never Land
Registration date : 2008-04-19

PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Wed Jun 04, 2008 5:13 pm

lol love it
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PostSubject: Re: Writings from the Mind of Cassandra   Tue Mar 03, 2009 4:04 am

you are really good
Rolling Eyes
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