Tuesday, June 1


Every generation has it's hippies -- and, sadly, I am one of those hippies. Today I was hanging out with some of my DK friends and

(Wait. Hold up. I need to know if DK is a localized term (because there is the possibility that it's so localized it's only used by people at a certain school, or it may be like "counter!" in which only a few special people know about it), so if any of you happen to be young enough or know someone young enough to be "in" with slang, ask them if DK has any special meaning to them. And no, it's not Donkey Kong. Really has nothing to do with video games at all.)

ok, and we were sitting around in the grass, grilling hotdogs on our pathetic grill (it only took us an hour to figure out how to light the damn coals -- yeah, we're real men), talking philosophy and ambiguous sexuality. It was all very "make love, not war" and "burn those fuckin commies down!"

All we needed was bell-bottoms and some weed and we'd be good. (Oops, I forgot; we are straight-edge, and we are the kind of fags that like to dress like men, not women, despite Mr. Dreadlocks and his vinyl hotpants -- but I won't get into it.) "Hi, I'm James, and I'm a hippie."

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