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"I don't know what I'm like. You're my friend. You tell me.
Or are you my friend? Who the hell are you?"
More about Sean
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College/University:
Pennsylvania State University - University Park, Attended - , Class of , Other
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Occupation:
sex warehouse worker, grifting
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Hobbies and Interests:
Kittens, Heather, cooking, comics
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Favorite Books:
Planetary, Powers, Wanted, Hyperion, Breakfast of Champions, Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter
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Favorite Movies:
Robot Pizza Butler, Pile Guys (in pre-production), Rushmore, Lord of the Rings, American Splendor, O Brother Where Art Thou?
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Favorite Music:
Wilco, Pixies, Frank Black, Breeders, Guided By Voices, R.E.M., Will Oldham, Elvis Costello, Velvet Underground, Neko Case, Gram Parsons, Beach Boys, Radiohead
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Favorite TV Shows:
Six Feet Under, Sopranos, Futurama, Simpsons, Twin Peaks, Daily Show, Chapelle Show
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Zodiac Sign:
Aries
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About Me:
I don't know what I'm like. You're my friend. You tell me.
Or are you my friend? Who the hell are you?
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Who I Want to Meet:
Sickos, suckers, and pervs. Any sub-humans or post-humans. The Avatar.
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name is Cameroon.
discovered the true nature of space, so we're
like, "we're set for life!" You sell knowledge of
the true nature of space and you are SET. LIKE
A TABLE! We're all happy about this discovery,
when, wouldn't you know it, reality caved in
and the knowledge was lost to the abyss. But,
the bright side is, we picked up some great
sunglasses, really nice ones.
which was a dialogue between two
pieces of yeast. They were discussing
the possible purposes of life as they
ate sugar and suffocated in their own
excrement. Because of their limited
intelligence, they never came close to
guessing that they were making
champagne.
Sean is the best there is at what he
does. And what he does is work in a sex
warehouse. I would really like to get
to know him better, but he will not let
me. Also, he has thick body hair that I
like running my fingers through.
I will use these arms (lined with razor
wire)to slice into your supple flesh
thus revealing the fear beneath.
With my numerous rows of teeth I will
reduce your bones to mist. But I must
leave a remnent of carcus to impale on
my Tree of Pain. Your number is
up,Sean. I come for you tonight. At
8:05.
must become this, you see. It is not
that he is the self absorbed ass that
is W. It is that he must morph. The
two are one, you see. They both fear
and lust after the ring. There is no
separation. do not be so eager to deal
out death and judgement. Many that
laugh deserve tears. Many that cry
deserve math. Who shall decide? I'll
tell you who. Sean Kelly, that's who.
decided it would be funny to kick Sean
in the genitals. Sean responded not by
cursing, fighting, or swearing revenge,
but by concocting an elaborate multi-
day story about how he was a testicular
cancer survivor and then getting
everyone he knew to back the story up.
Several days later, Tom cracked and
apologized, teary-eyed, with every
shred of sincerity in his body. Sean
laughed in his face. Ever since then,
I've had the utmost respect for him.
my pants around my ankles.
like Superman and when he wears
his glasses he is ClarkKent.
wrapped my chest with an ace bandage
and forced me to dress like a boy. I
was lucky, my best friend got eaten out
on stage. This was my first college
theater experience. Later that year
Sean assisted in teaching me how to
smoke. Even though I blame him for my
cross dressing binges and lung cacer,
he's still a swell guy. And he likes
Josie and the Pussycats.