Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.
I have been wanting to get that off my chest for a few days now. Shit Fuck.
As far as the Wily Beaver cares, the culture of man can do whatever it pleases. Just leave some fresh water, some big trees, and some green grass and the Wily Beaver will be happy. A simple lodge, to build and to love, is his primary concern. And maybe a Mrs. Beaver, too.
Blogs. Psh. I call them Blaaahgs. I got your editorial journalism right here. I got your fancy substantive personality right here. I got your social commentary and insightful news too. Ok, I don't have that.
He swims. He gnaws. He builds dams. He moves us with his intelligence and grace. He is the Wily Beaver. And he is here to INTUBATE us all.
Wednesday, September 04, 2002
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