A poem to bitterly cold weather
Oh the weather outside is frikkin' cold
Making the walk from my car to the building is less than delightful
I am glad I am not a toad
Living outside would be frightful
The weather makes my feel bitter and cold
just like your mother
With that said before we are too old
I am going to tell everyone you went to prom with your brother!
Merry frikkin Christmas
with more than a little sass.
Monday, December 22, 2008
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There was madness in any direction, at any hour. You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning.
- R.D.
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