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I love this ‘hood…

…the lights…

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…the scene…

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…the DJs…

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…and I mean seriously…

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…where else are you going to see…

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…a thirty five story albino gorilla out on the town?

Details ~ on the roof

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Just Dance!

I’ve had a little bit too much, much

All of the people start to rush, start to rush by

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How does she twist the dance? Can’t find a drink, oh man

Where are my keys? I lost my phone, phone

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 What’s going on on the floor?

I love this record Stacia but I can’t see straight anymore

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Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say

And we’re all getting hosed tonight, oh oh oh-oh

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Keep it cool, what’s the name of this club?

I can’t remember but it’s alright, a-alright

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Wish I could shut my playboy mouth, oh oh oh-oh

How’d I turn my shirt inside out? Inside outright

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Just dance, gonna be okay, da da doo-doo-mmm

Just dance, spin that record babe, da da doo-doo-mmm

Just dance, gonna be okay,

d-d-d-dance Dance, dance, just, j-j-just

Details ~ on the dance floor

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Good Morning!

Oh my. It certainly is!

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It’s lovely to get away to the country occasionally.

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Especially if you can find a cabin on Neva River.

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Oh yes…

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…the paper.

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I like to wait until second breakfast for that.

Details ~ On the front porch.

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Howl ~ the interrupted version

I saw the best avatars of my generation destroyed by lag, primless hysterical ruthed,

dragging themselves through the wounded Nexus streets at dawn looking for an angry Spider,

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angel winged cyberpunks burning for the heavenly multi-plexed connection to the

smoking asset server in the Second Life night,

who jaggy and clouded and hollow-primmed and high sat up smoking in the pixdark of

Suffugium cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating Gomi dubstep,

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who bared their brains to Snark under the rusty Iron Tree

and saw Fate (Artemis) staggering on the Last Round’s roof illuminated,

who passed through welcome areas with radiant eyes hallucinating blade runners

and altered carbon tragedy among the scholars of Jessie and Stanford,

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who were banned from the info hubs for crazy

and typing obscene code on the servers of the forums,

who cowered in unrezzed rooms in underwear,

burning their Lindens in oil barrels and listening to the Club-in-a-box through the wall,

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who ate prim sushi in paint hotels or drank Dr. Peppers in Hard Alley,

CPU death, or purgatoried their primcocks night after night

with dreams, with Snowcrash, with internet nightmares,

griefers and drama and endless gray goo,

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incomparable blind streets of shuddering textures and lightning in the mind

leaping towards poles of Ross & Ahern, illuminating all the lag frozen world of Time between,

who chained themselves to TP points for the endless ride from Luna to holy Plum on pre-mesh

until the noise of Dominus Shadows and newbs brought them down shuddering

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pixel-wracked and battered bleak of brain all drained of brilliance in the drear li

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*howl

Details ~

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