Mar. 1st, 2004

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I type a 101 words a minute. But it's in my own language.

I'm against picketing, but I don't know how to show it.

I wrote a script for a guy, and he said he liked it but he thought that I need to rewrite it. I said, "Fuck that, I'll just make a copy."

My friend said to me "Man, this weather is trippy." I said to him, "No man, perhaps it is not the weather that is trippy, it is the way we perceive it that is indeed trippy..." then I thought, man, I should have just said, 'yeah...'

The depressing thing about tennis is that no matter how much I play, I'll never be as good as a wall. I played a wall once. They're fucking relentless.

I think Pringles' initial intention was to make tennis balls. But on the day that the rubber was supposed to show up, a big truckload of potatoes arrived. But Pringles is a laid-back company. They said "Fuck it. Cut em up."

I don't have a girlfriend. But I do know a woman who'd be mad at me for saying that.

I used to do drugs. I still do, but I used to, too.

I got an ant farm. Them fellas didn't grow shit.
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Я наконец сгенерировал новый сезон в моей онлайновой игрушке Soccer Manager, первая игра - в среду, 3-го марта. Постараюсь больше перерывов между сезонами не допускать.

Как обычно, багрепорты и фичереквесты крайне приветствуются.

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