Slamdance. The year, TwoThousandTen. What follows here: my accounts. Leaving tomorrow so I don't have that much to report yet other than I have not bought fresh six-pack of underoos, false eyelashes or gone to the bank. That was today's 'to do.' Above, witness my accomplishments. A Playboy Bunny suitcase borrowed from my Manfriend who borrowed it from his friend's Manfriend packed with an outfit certain to humiliate it's wearer. Oh desperate, desperate Horsefingers.
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