Friday, August 16, 2002


Dave, I hate the name Dave. These past weeks have been pure hell all because of some people named Dave. The name Dave now cuts through me like a knife. Dave, that annoying little sound, just like a misquito buzzing in your ear. I can't utter the name without a pause, changing the tone of my voice, and making an evil glare. It fills my throat with a heavy feeling and leaves me choking to die. Dave, if I had a life-threatening disease, I'd name it Dave. Dave, the cut that you can't stop picking at. Dave. The hemroid on your ass that hurts no matter what position you are sitting or even walking. Dave. I'd be content on never meeting or hearing about another Dave for the rest of my life. All Daves have underlying, self-indulging motives. Even Dave Thomas, the late founder of Wendy's, had to ben a bastard of his days. DAVE.....

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