Right. Whoever sent me the Bole/Marcus textslash? Thank you. Not only did it make my insides tingle (in public, no less, and I'm sure the fucking asshole Dutch blokes sitting across me could've done with the leer I gave my cellphone, so ha!), it also quite possibly saved me from either a) throwing myself under the fucking train, or b) inflict my intense anger with Bush on the entire train. Because I was seriously thisclose to doing both. Fucker. (Details to follow.)
So, yeah. Whoever sent that? Ta, babe
So, yeah. Whoever sent that? Ta, babe
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And yes, me too. Although now I'm composing a big angry essay about Why George Bush Needs To Be Smitten, For The Good Of ALl Mankind, Or At Least For The Sake Of My Faith In The Future.
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And George Bush? At least you don't have to live in a country run by a man who hits his head getting into his presidential helicopter. *loathes him*
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The guy scares the living daylights out of me.