Ode to the bucket in every man's garage,
sits there and full past the brim,
filled with all form of junk,
rusty nails and an oily screw:
who really knows what to do?
25 October 2011
Quick Update
Last night, during a conversation with a bright friend of a friend in Pforzheimer House,
I realized that I have danced 12-15 hours a week on average for most of this semester.
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