Pieces of my notebook

assholes that say "not for me"
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only there can you hear the phrase "key plot point on Muppet Babies."
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of mismatched libidoes and failed sexual encounters
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rocking fortress
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"Have you checked all the toys for rattlesnakes?"
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A wife that supports me as an accountant so I can write inconsistant gibberish irregularly on a wide variety of topics at my leisure, finishing the texts in either a flash of brilliance or mid-sentence where they hang for eternity barring a revitalized interest requiring the full re-writing from start to finish.
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A new generation, born of machines with more value and worth in abstract intangibles like microcode and data than quilts and money.  A generation where the homeless carry laptops and have social networks, tracking down free wifi and open power outlets.  Where every moment of every day is broadcasted to a million possible users, to anyone that is interested in using it, where lifecasting isn't unusual, only the degrees of lifecasting are of importance.
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Police beatings are nothing like they were in the sixties and before that.  The prevalance of television cameras catching riots quickly quelled the police force's undue rage while today every person has a camera in three or more of their personal devices they carry with them.  A single beating is quickly broadcasted, reproduced without written consent, and funnelled to the necessary sources so that the officer is properly punished and god help him if his department doesn't do it.  Because if you aren't punished correctly, the internet will punish you, and god have mercy on your poor soul if that happens.

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