josh and awol
i'm proud of my handwriting.
Let me give eveyone a fair warning: say it's 11:30 in the evening and I'm sitting at my desk listening to music, doing a bit of instant messaging and filling out a form to request an official transcript from my alma matter, and you decide to quip from the other room something to the effect of, "Are you sure you don't want to type that, so they don't have to read your 4th grade chicken scratch," I am likely to respond by grimacing momentarily, glancing down at the cup of pens on my desk, snatching up a big fat Sharpie marker, chasing you around the floor of the kitchen, and with the help of Awol to pin you to the ground in the midst of your struggling, spitting and thrashing, I will draw a crooked Señor Stache upon your upper lip, laugh at you, and while we're still chuckling about it, take a picture for posterity and threaten to publish it on the world wide web, where you can be ridiculed by all the world as punishment for your horrible misgivings.
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