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we're on the road and we're gunning for the buddah
so someone besides mr.mittens has made a request to reset the password for this, my live journal.

squeaky, fuck off , ok. it's not my fault sadie snitched and you couldn't figure out how to fire that gun at jerry ford. after all, i was only about 6 years old at the time and even then i bathed with regularity and didn't have anything to do whatsoever with hippies besides the one who puked ripple on my head at that joe cocker concert my parents dragged me to.

women who are doormats, hapless pawns of perpetual users, are not appealing in any sense. murdering pregnant women because some sawed off ex-con racist tells you to is fucking vile beyond my feeble abilities with the english language to describe.

anyone who wants to emerge from the desert in dune buggies to control the ' mud races' who will take over the world after the race riots and will, of course, need to be 'led' by syphilitic white bitches and some dishrag of a man who probably isn't even technically white, deserves infamy not iconoclastic status fueled by stupid, pampered ,honky fucking bimbos who's last original thoughts concerned whether to wipe their asses from front to back or back to front.

but besides all this, i have no opinion of mindless automatons and hippy dippy fascists whatsoever.