Here is a link to an interview with Reverend Lennox Yearwood, the man illegally battered and politically imprisoned by fascists in the video above. Government should fear the people not the other way around. Revolution now.
Land of the free,land of the free,land of the free,land of the free. What a crock of Bs!! Our rights are slipping away one by one.No.No, In fact this is the land of dead voters and phone tapping's. A land where in the middle of the night men that don't have to explain themselves can bust into the home you pay for as a "free American citizen" throw a hood over your head and transport you to who knows where all in the name of OUR security. I don't get it. Wake up people.Stop mindlessly believing in a system that was for the people by the people, but is now manifested into a regressed pitiful spark of its former statue.
[Updated 7/18/2007] These are the animals running our country: Late Night Shots Think Pretty In Pink where Blane is a young Republican blueblood and Andie is another young Republican (although tragically nuveaux riche ) making a sharp right turn down a dark, soulless rabbit hole where privilege, class and premarital sex between 20 something social Conservatives finds its way onto the a'la minute gossip pages of the internets. Here is an edifying quote: RE: optimal number for a woman Posted By: Guy on 10-23-2006 1:35 pm I could put up with 12. Anything more than that without a good explanation, and the girl is incapable of being in a serious relationship. RE: optimal number for a woman Posted By: higher the better on 10-23-2006 1:39 pm I prefer high 's. It usually means they really like to have sex, and that they are very good at it. And the idea that you might be exposing yourself to a serious disease is thrilling and really gets my blood flowing. RE: optimal number for a
Anniversary. The first time I saw her, after nearly 16 or 17 years had elapsed, she was noticeably thinner than she was in high school. But she was also stylish, in a way I didn't recall her being as a teenager. There was an anxious confidence in her. She talked in stuccato, gesticulating sharply. We dined on bacon and eggs and talked about LA and TV and the Scientologists across the street, in their color coded collared short sleeves filing out of their Scientology busses as the Scientology private police force circled the big blue building on bicycles. We walked to her house, passing a vitamin store (a Scientology front, but I was just as fascinated to hear the dirt as she was to dish it). She offered, smiling, "did you know my maid is a Scientologist?" We passed a Spanish-Mexican church. This was unglamorous West Hollywood, where staff writers and upstarts scrape by. Of course Emily was also on SSI, for her problems. I browsed her selection of books - novelized fictio
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