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To Emp Newb the Nameless


Imoutgoodbye

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Wishing you a happy birthday, in a way only a Reverend should.  *raises his wine glass*

 

Birth, at any age, at any season, perhaps more so by the 30th, is dominated by a catharsis that gives way to an ugly rage which exposes the existential hopelessness of the world.  Here's to you and a wild night, may you not remember what the hell happened.

 

 

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