In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade. And, he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down and cut him 'till he cried out in his anger and his shame: "I am leaving, I am leaving". But, the fighter still remains.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Country-fied
I've decided that if I were a back woods hick, I would name my children after guns. Even if I didn't WANT children, I would have them, so I could name them after guns. It would be pretty darn cool, I'll tell you that much.
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