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hairum scarum
cracker
akmed
ok, i think i accidentally got an EHO haircut....

it wasn't on purpose. i was drugged. i was depressed. i had angst.

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No way!

I may be coming up for St Pattys day. I have to see this. We can cry together.

ohhh, i'll dye it green then to match the puke from all the green beer to be drunk.

OK...I am a square (actually, more parallelogram) what the heck is EHO..

Oh and btw, I spent the afternoon listening to Edith Piaf thanks to you :)

real men( and women) eat brie

well, i was thinking of that EMO video you so graciously linked me to(" emo is just a step below transvestite...")...EMO/E'HO - no big difference , right?

i have one fucking big bang, for boy george's sake!!!!!- i have either the EMO band gay boy 'do or the nazi undercut that's grown weeds.please don't beat me up in my clown car!!!! please!!!! i swear i won't call you a freak or nothing!!!!

my hair gets long and i get ITCHY and persia complains when i start to shed. i was in no mood for the timmy mcveigh or shaving O.P.P.( 'you know me!') in the back of the high top fade....i was possessed by satan and said to the barber, who doesn't speak english( portugese from brasil),-' no cut the top'.

i cry every fucking time i hear ' la vie en rose'. she has this one song about a woman in an asylum singing about her night gown with little flowers on it that's devistating-'les blouses blanches' (white coats). i can't find it on lp or cd here.

she lives these songs when she sings them and you can tell even if you dont understand all the words. she was, by the way, one of your sistahs. her grandmother was an arab or berber from algeria and it influenced her singing style as her mother was a street singer also.

i am so glad you are grooving on edith. she's the france we never see-working class toughs, born into nothing who can still fall in love madly in love with words, appreciate the beauty in the simplest of things- the ones who hid their jews in their own basements and still go to normandy beach with tears in their eyes for all those lovely brave dead boys and can hold their own in bar room brawl.

the french that are wee little sparrows who love big burly dumbass boxers.ooh yeah real woman are into rough trade.

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