April is here!
...and incase you missed some of the pranks, I'll highlight a few:
Wisps. Yes, wisps. Just when my patience with Blizzard is running a little thin after the last patch, they stand up and make fun of themselves. I love it. Note the racial talents: especially treeform and detonate. (You die. Permanently)
Also, Google strikes again. Check out each - savor the satire, relish the relevancy.
Enough with the jokes.
My great-aunt passed away last week; the last of 13 children at 88 (89 next week), she had served as a Sister of Mercy for 70 years - a remarkable woman.
I spent nearly the entire weekend at my buddy's place in the city. It really just reinforces how much I want to be able to walk to anything I need. We walked to the bar. We walked to the store. It was great. Finally went out to get my degree framed, and realized how little artwork I have in my apartment/office. Consider it on my to-do list.
does the man who makes the shoes own you, clown?
you can't even pry the nameplate off, now can you?
fix it with your tiny fist there
Busting up a Starbucks by Mike Doughty
Wisps. Yes, wisps. Just when my patience with Blizzard is running a little thin after the last patch, they stand up and make fun of themselves. I love it. Note the racial talents: especially treeform and detonate. (You die. Permanently)
Also, Google strikes again. Check out each - savor the satire, relish the relevancy.
Enough with the jokes.
My great-aunt passed away last week; the last of 13 children at 88 (89 next week), she had served as a Sister of Mercy for 70 years - a remarkable woman.
I spent nearly the entire weekend at my buddy's place in the city. It really just reinforces how much I want to be able to walk to anything I need. We walked to the bar. We walked to the store. It was great. Finally went out to get my degree framed, and realized how little artwork I have in my apartment/office. Consider it on my to-do list.
does the man who makes the shoes own you, clown?
you can't even pry the nameplate off, now can you?
fix it with your tiny fist there
Busting up a Starbucks by Mike Doughty
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