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Katy
User: [info]vanarien
Name: Katy
My youngest son came home today
His friends marched with him all the way
The fife and drum beat out the time
While in his box of polished pine
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son same home today

My youngest son was a fine young man
With a wife, a daughter and two sons
And a man he would have lived and died
Till by a bullet sanctified
Now he's a saint or so they say
They brought their young saint home today

An Irish sky looks down and weeps
Upon the narrow Belfast streets
At children's blood in gutters spilled
In dreams of glory unfulfilled
As part of freedom's price to pay
My youngest son came home today

My youngest son came home today
His friends marched with him all the way
The pipe and drum beat out the time
While in his box of polished pine
Like dead meat on a butcher's tray
My youngest son came home today
And this time he's here to stay
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You know what is one of the best feelings in the world? I mean aside from a Law and Order SVU marathon when you didn't expect one (but, ho boy, does THAT rock!?), no, I mean receiving monetary gratification for doing absolutely nothing. I think I deserve to buy myself something.... Buffy/L&O/Anime related? Oh yes. I do think so.
Anyway, I've decided that I don't spend enough money on myself and stupid things that I don't need but really want anyway. On the other hand... I could save this money for a Rangers/Bruins outing... or beer... or both.

On a less describing note... Adrian Brody is pretty hot. How did I miss that?

I've also decided that children are disgusting creatures. Ugh. They're like... mutants... dripping from unpleasant places... screaming for no damn reason... Note to self: Don't have children. Ever.


Hm... I wonder how much HP audio books cost...

Current Mood: complacent complacent
Tasty Groove: Wilco: Less Than You Think