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  <title>This is me sharing my fun...</title>
  <subtitle>RedsHogTheFun</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>RedsHogTheFun</name>
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  <updated>2007-06-07T16:28:37Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="13097443" username="redshogthefun" type="personal"/>
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    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:redshogthefun:796</id>
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    <title>Nothing like a 14 karat to put a sparkle in my day</title>
    <published>2007-06-07T15:59:38Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-07T16:28:37Z</updated>
    <category term="menda hills"/>
    <content type="html">So, I was swinging by Kay Jeweler's yesterday, eyeing some bracelets, getting impatient when the lady behind the counter was busy with some enganged couple when I saw them. Absolutely beautiful silver hoops with 14 karat diamond studs. I have this new necklace that would go &lt;em&gt;perfectly &lt;/em&gt;with them. So, I flag the lady over to pull them out of the case. She does so with a bit of an attitude before returning to the couple, who by now are also giving me nasty looks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bunch of moronic assholes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have to stand for this, you know. I'm a customer, too! So, what else was I to do but lift my chin and waltz away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I've got a beautiful pair of earrings to go with my necklace and I'm ready to tackle my first official day at Satan's Millitary Academy.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:redshogthefun:514</id>
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    <title>Menda Hills</title>
    <published>2007-06-06T23:32:41Z</published>
    <updated>2007-06-07T01:13:02Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;font color="#800080"&gt;An academy of "special" students, right? Supposedly a haven for those with extroardinary talents that purge through us unsuspecting cherubs in unproductive and destructive ways. A place where said "cherubs" can redirect their "talents" to create works of&amp;nbsp;art, express their deeply hidden raw emotions and connect with one another in intimate, personal and wholesome relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, my mother should be the one coming to this place instead of me. She calls &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; a liar?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus far, in the twenty-some&amp;nbsp;hours since my flight landed in&amp;nbsp;Hell,&amp;nbsp;I've seen more drugs, booze and&amp;nbsp;whores than I ever did at high school, so really. What's the real difference?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And god, but the students here are nothing but a bunch of punk-ass freaks. Waving cigarettes around like they belong in the ghetto. Drinking enough beer that would put Robert to shame. Most of the people here keep cussing and whining about how unfair it is to be here when, really, they weae this place like a badge of honor. "Look at me, I'm hard core enough to be here. What about you?" I swear, if I get one more smelly, garbage-breath crack head looking me up and down and asking what I'm "in for", I may have to switch to 1rst degree murder as my area of expertise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I need is a breath of fresh air &lt;em&gt;not&lt;/em&gt; clogged up by nicotine and failing anti-persperant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, what I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; need is a trip to the mall. Stressful situations can always be remedied by a lesiurely walk through JCPenny with an eye for some new earrings and not a cent in my wallet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah. I feel myself getting better even thinking about it.&lt;/font&gt;</content>
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