With Naruto on your back you put on your shoes. The anime is seeping into your pores and suddenly everything seems possible. You peek outside your bedroom window and see that your mother's Geo Tracker is sitting in the driveway. If you can get the keys from her pocket without waking her, you can listen to her cassette tapes all the way north. But if she wakes up your trip is ruined. You could also take your mountain bike. It's like 100 miles or something to get there.
The singer dove off the stage and crowd surfed in a sort of reverse funeral procession where the person being carried is the only one truly alive. Touching him I felt religious ecstasy and started speaking in tongues and requesting songs that didn't exist.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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