Us vs. Them

Posted by dean at 01:37 PM | Permalink

Sarah, colored syringe stuck out of her neck, who always wore too many clothes, screamed something about death warrants.

Marshall, a boy with freckles and an enthusiasm for urinating in empty containers, crawled on one arm, looking for the other.

Jamie said nothing.

It was annoying.

Posted by dean at 10:09 PM | Permalink

Heritage rock, heritage rock
Can't get enough of heritage rock

It's been twenty-five years since you had an original thought in your head
I don't want to know about the records you own or all the books that you've read
We got a message straight from the top
From the guys in heritage rock
They're going to recognize their age
It's a middle-aged rampage now

I love rock & roll
I hope it never dies
Put it in a time-capsule, and bury it alive

Cryogenically frozen, an unfinished masterpiece,
He's got his own meltdown
He's a bona-fide legend, a credit to his rest-home
Who let him out
He's going to play all the hits that we knew
All of the new album, too
It's good to have something in these times to look forward to

I love rock & roll
I hope it never dies
Wrap it up in cotton wool, and bury it alive

Heritage rock, heritage rock
Can't get enough of heritage rock

Crosby, Stills, & Nash, the legacy of The Clash
I can't take much more
Northern soul and Stax, the evolution of rap
Will have arrived fully-formed
But mutated along the way
Like a bubonic plague
Now if all of the world is a stage
God help us if there's a war

I love rock & roll
I hope it never dies
Put it in a chocolate box, and bury it alive.

Posted by dean at 09:10 PM | Permalink

"Religion is a very powerful and convincing mistake."

Posted by dean at 03:23 PM | Permalink

while (true)
{
if (MessageBox.Show("Do you wanna be my lover?","Do ya?",
MessageBoxButtons.YesNo,MessageBoxIcon.Question)==DialogResult.Yes)
break;
}

Posted by dean at 08:08 PM | Permalink

"Bad shit today," the automated voice said from the cheap speaker, "hall-walk in silence," followed by something about another country and a pop song behind student-council credits.

She tapped her pencil on her tights in modified code, watching her second-in-command.

"Do it," he mouthed.

The teacher sat up, straightened her skirt, and passed out sheets of green paper.

"Done," she tapped.

The class adjusted their seats.

He looked surprised.

"Almost."

But she didn't know anyone was watching.

Posted by dean at 05:20 PM | Permalink