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listen everyone, lets admit it: we've all been there, drunken (or sober) and uncontrollably excited for whatever presents itself. The receipt in your pocket that you got for buying a three musketeers on your debit card at Plaid Pantry, the loose change, and pocket lint allows itself enough inspiration to go and yell and pant and get really fucking siked about something distant and unclear but undescribably awesome. like a million fireworks exploding and then repackaging themselves and then blowing up the origional people who started the fireworks in the first place. its really intense, and similar to the time you got drunk and rode your bike in the local high school football field at night when the sprinklers were on, and you got caught by the security guards but gave 'em the finger and rode on, until you found yourself on I-84, hitch-hiking a ride to santa barbra.
theres also the time that you realized that life was way rad, as long as you stop worrying about the non-rad things. like data-entry jobs, bills, and other pedestrian worries.
so get out your tacky, faux-imported tiki statues, as well as your strobe and christmas lights, because its time to get excited for no reason at all. and its time to have fun doing every last single cliche thing that you can think of. and youll scream at the moon and tp your old gym teachers house, and get brainfreezes from 44oz slurpees, and once and for all bust into your 6th grade crush's wedding, at just the right part, (you know, the "speak now or forever hold your peice" part) to say, "Stop Samantha, youre making a big mistake. Lets go play MASH during 6th period and then go sneak into the arts and crafts room and get high off of rubber cement, like old times."
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