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Thursday, November 23, 2006

park that car. drop that phone. sleep on the floor. dream about me.
spinning: anthems for a seventeen year-old girl by broken social scene

I know nothing about you. You were standing outside the porta-potties in a striped shirt, tight black pants and a full pint in each hand straining to smoke your cigarette without spilling any beer. I know nothing about you but that moment and there's nothing more that really needs to be said about that.




1:11 AM