Yeah, burned. What's up.
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Scribbled over a urinal in the Bio-Psy building at uconn is a beautiful poem that makes me laugh every time I piss at it:
"Everyone's a poet...
Think of the past...
Day dreams...
Wet dreams...
The game.
You lost it."
SC*AR (Schwarz Army)
No longer stock ride height, rolling as low as a daily driver in New England should without worrying about breaking an oil pan. :up:
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