I delve into myself. Introspective for the record, want the finished product, only see the etching. I'm a bit non-plussed, and that's the correct usage, but I wouldn't be so salty if I wasn't f**ing stupid
I'm that bomb.com-bastic kid. Composite half-flesh-half-plastic grin, a hard-line pedestrian. Walking this town until every single level ends. A little sun, a sidewalk is all I need to revel in
The basics, yeah, I know how to do 'em, but that's a tall order with no head room for improvement. And if you do it, will it become a movement? I mean, will it even matter or will you just be a nuisance? I'm putting in my two cents but only a penny for your thoughts; moral of the story: invest in better stocks. And if you end up better off, make the funds mutual. It doesn't matter what you do, it's more who you do it to
I am the one who makes it talk, the one who shakes it off, and when it's time to walk I walk along until I'm lost. I find myself in the strangest of places -- close to the vest and on the table next. And I promise as long as I live that I'll take half as much as I can give out