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  1. R

    Have a nice day.

    Updated 05-10-2012 at 08:04 AM by rich14285

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  2. please take my picture....

    by , 10-18-2010 at 10:19 AM (day in a life)
    Well my 4 year old son is taking his first steps in the modelling business... a friend of mine asked him to model hats or something, they asked me to but I'm gonna try and get out of it. I did it once for this friend before, and that was for a german horse calendar, we where both in the icelandic national uniform, I hated it... I don't photograph well... hopefully it will just be my son.

    my brother is living with me for a few days, my son loves having him around! I do too, some company ...
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  3. A Brief History of Comedy

    423BC Aristophanes writes Clouds
    422BC Aristophanes writes Wasps
    421BC Aristophanes writes Peace
    414BC Aristophanes writes Birds
    411BC Aristophanes writes Lysistrata
    411BC Aristophanes writes Thesmophoriazusae
    317BC Menander writes The Grouch
    234–184 BC Plautus writes The Pot of Gold, Amphytrion, The Haunted House, Miles Gloriosus, The Menaechmus Twins, and Pseudolus
    166BC Terence writes the Girl from Andros
    165BC Terence writes The ...

    Updated 12-22-2017 at 08:24 AM by mortalterror

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  4. Hiding

    by , 10-14-2010 at 10:09 PM (My Blog...How original.)
    At choir, I was starring across the room where the basses sit. Like, omg, have I ever mentioned how much I've fallen in love with the bass voice? It's been a recent romance, having only developed since June. Anyway, no one's really concerned with that romance… And that's not what I want to talk about.

    The point of this blog is to tell you about an embarrassing something that happened on Tuesday. So as I was saying, I was starring off into deep space toward the bass section admiring
    ...
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  5. The Dream of You

    The Dream of You

    What do I do
    when I know longer know
    what you see when you look at me,
    is there something lost
    far away behind your eyes,
    have I become miniscule?

    Where do I go
    when I can no longer
    bare to write beautiful sonnets for you
    because each thought of love
    is born with a measure of pain.

    What is there left
    when I walk around the edge
    and feel my balance start to
    ...
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    My Poetry