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So hey,
I wanted to know if I wanted to get a LOT of cranberries...like..ALOT..not for anything evil though, well...
.not really...but anyways, I was wondering if Justin could get them for me, or if Gus could at least be my
boyfriend. Either or...both will satisfy my lust for blood..I mean...love.
I really doubt that Justin is allowed to steal cranberries from his job. I mean, he's not here
so I can't actually say, but my guess is that you'll have to acquire your cranberries elsewhere. Have you
tried reverse engineering cranberry juice? It's just crazy enough to work. And just between you, me and whoever
else is reading this, Gus would like to be your boyfriend, Providing you meet the following conditions: Not love,
Hey. It's me. Justin. I totally hacked this page using only my home computer. Anyway, what I wanted to say is... Um... I forget. I'm really tired right now. What do you even want cranberries for, Lisa? It's not like they taste good, or anything. You can put them in muffins and pancakes and stuff, I guess, but I've never known you to bake. Except that one cake that was really good. We move over 40 boxes of cranberries a day, and each box holds 1200 pounds of berries. We do this for about three weeks. You do the math. Oh, okay, I'll do it for you. They get about a million pounds of cranberries. That's 1 000 000 lbs. That's insane. Now I'm just rambling. Well, let's see if Gus notices this, as I did it without him knowing. It's me,
Yeah, I noticed. I see everything. You bastards and your cranberries pushed my sanity over the edge.
I can see you two laughing at me now. You think it's pretty funny don't you? My whole life my mind has
been like a teleprompter, scrolling letters in my mind's eye told me what I was thinking. But now all the
teleprompter says is CRANBERRY. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? That one word mocking my
fragile thoughtbox. Now it'll never be the same again. You and Lisa are marked, Bram...I don't blame for
this, he never talked to me about cranberries...he's pure and good....like a Jesus that sticks his fist in his
mouth and play his shoe like a guitar. But you two....oh....you two....you'll see....I'm serious. T'is he, E-mail Us! |
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