I need your help! My name is…I don’t know what my name is! I only have one clue to my existence! A note! I found it, let’s just say, in the latter part of my digestive tract. I pulled it out, and it on it said https://www.burnttoastdiner.com, and a password, and I logged on and here I am!
Who am I? Tell me! I know nothing about myself! I am confused! I want bacon! But why? I don’t know! Am I a bacon lover? I don’t know! Maybe I grew up on a pig farm! It’s a definite possibility! Maybe I love country music! Do I? Do I?!?!?!?!
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Excuse me, I just passed out. I kinda lost it there. I am confused as to my place in life, but I have the distinct feeling that I have always been that way, that I have never known who I am, and that I’ve never known love. What is love, but flying up to the apex of the stratosphere, only to skydive out of a metaphorical plane with a defective parachute that only deploys after one has hit the ground? I have the strange impulse to speak in metaphors! Why, I do not know. Perhaps because metaphorical language is as deep as the bottomless pit in that movie “The 300.” Wait, I remember movies, but not who I am? That doesn’t make any sense. And wait a second, that wasn’t a metaphor, but a simile! Ahhh! I speak in similes, too?! WHHHHHHYYYYY?!
What curse is this, to speak in such language and to feel pain and remorse when I don’t remember where it’s coming from? But is it coming from anywhere? Or is this life a permanent state of pain and remorse? If so, what kind of life is this that I have led? A truly miserable one, to be sure.
Wait a minute, I think I’ve figured out what kind of music I listen to! It’s so simple! It’s gotta be emo!
One thing down, one hundred bajillion to go! Blurry. Amnesia. Cliched storyline. Such is…Peter?
Peter,
Is this why you called one night with this question.
“I just got kissed,does this mean I’m Irish?”
Now stop playing pretend and come home. Your older brother is a drunk. You’ll have a good time with him now.
Good! That means you forgot the whole, “Call me Noah” thing. In that case, you can call me Mr. Ben…uh, I mean, Mr. Butler from now on.
I see you like to cry. We should get together sometime.
Lol! I though you didn’t posted because you forgot your ID and pasword, but that wasn’t an impediment for you =P.
I can tell you something about you, if it helps: you’re DA bomb!
Such is…Peter?
Yes. Such is Peter.
why don’t you look on your blog profile?
Your really a model for D&G. I am your favorite friend. We where going to model with Paris Hilton but you stood me up.
I don’t know you. Your amnesia is not my fault.
Ummm…Can I have my necklace back now? Please?
Peter,
Stop being goofy and come home!Honestly!
AH HA.
So you are blogging, are you?
I knew I could find you on the internet. Now, if only I can find you in Ireland…
Oh uh, I have all the answers you need. I’m your…girlfriend. Yep. I can tell you all you need to know!
dont listen to her shes lying i know everything about you come to my myspace and ill tell you everything. http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=110927899