Ghost Lounge

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*logs in*

*sees krypton tagged him in something*

*exits browser*
 
Look, someone has to be a Sweet Dee, otherwise the dynamic is all off.
 
hes more rickety cricket than dee
 
Look, someone has to be a Sweet Dee, otherwise the dynamic is all off.
mariah-carey-i-dont-know-her-02.gif


:o
 
I was going to start that Gangs of London show. It seems like a winner. Anything to distract from the waking nightmare that is real life.
 
you need a vacation... Roose my boy... fetch some of that tea we had while hunting that **** mongrel hose beast in Comodoro Rivadavia.
 
I was going to start that Gangs of London show. It seems like a winner. Anything to distract from the waking nightmare that is real life.

I took this as you were gonna start your own Gangs Of London show.


With I assume... Blackjack and Hookers.
 
It would have to be London, Ontario. I mean, they have meth, but I don't know if that makes for a compelling crime drama, you know? Can't see it.
 
I hate snow. :( Unless its bad enough that they cancel work, lol.
 
Just a chilly wind in NYC.

...

...

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And I apparently have the first line for my late 1970's Folk/Rock album.
 
35° outside and I'm sleeping with the fan on. That's just how I do it.
 
Gangs of London is ****ing rad. Things kick up a notch. I also finally started watching Umbrella Academy, which is also very good. And then I had this peanut butter cookie brownie, which was... ok. No one bats 1.000.
 
I don't think you can call a day "lazy" if it's the same as every other day.
 
MeTV showing that old TV show: The powers of Matthew Star

Oh man I forgot about that
 
Pop Quiz Loungers:

Name the weirdest, most obscure short lived TV show or TV show pilot you can remember from childhood that you thought was actually a cool concept.
 
What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier, it's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business; she's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come, and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada - I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard: I have a son, and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadéro. She's been waiting for me all these years, she's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.
 
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