Tuesday, October 18, 2011


October 25th. It's on a Tuesday. 7:45 am. That's in the morning. Got it? Write it down. Why? It's the final moment in time this quarter that I'll accept anything. You can't make up a quiz or a test or anything else past this date. All things you haven't turned in turn into dust. Your carriage turns into a pumpkin. And the horses? Mice. It's all worth nada. Nothing.



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