Young Folks

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written by owen on 2011-Oct-10.

Around here the weeks seem to get shorter and shorter like the first graders in high school. In fact the time seems to fly by as I get taller and older waiting for my chicken sandwich at Island Grill. Truth of the matter is that the time is constant, my fries just get cold if I don't eat them fast enough. The catch with that is if you eat too fast you might bite your tongue.

I hate - is a strong word - receptionists and information desks. The people, not the actual desks - I love desks, chairs and puppies. Receptionists on the other hand has a mandate to be rid of you as soon as possible. It would not be so bad if they were actually giving me the information that I needed but instead of trying to send me somewhere else without giving me any warnings about the death traps that lay before me. I instantly assume that the person in front of me is a idiot placed on this earth to troll innocent people and spoil my day.

I need to get my car painted soon. My attempt to acquire sponsorship for a gigantic sticker proved fruitless and expensive. The information desk was of no help. Can not get no satisfaction. Having a car with a peculiar colour further amplified my problems. Emerald blue pearl turns out to be a magical mix of colors and getting it to match seemlessly with the rest of the car may prove to be tricky. At the going rate I would go broke if I repainted the entire car. Bueaty is skin deep. They cannot love you like I love you.

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