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Friday, June 25, 2010

We see an eagle glide slowly over the tidal river that divides the tiny town, and Peter (we call him P-ball) looks over. "Get his attention!" he yells. We start a choir of whistles completely void of any harmony... followed by a brief silence before Andrew (we call him Crayon) shouts out..
"Faggot!"
We laugh hysterically... though (at this moment) I'm not quite sure why. The eagle ignores us.

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