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Journal deathcloset's Journal: chapter 12-intro

"Holy crap I'm hungry!" Bill Gates screamed.

We were walking along the backbone of the space-nazi's battle cruiser and we had 10 miles to go before we reached the patch-point susan had instructed us to patch-in to, via the patch kit and patch cable.

"I am a bit famished myself," I agreed. "It would be nice to have something to eat."

my brother turned around and asked, "you guys wan't to have some hotdogs?".

"Hell yeah!" bill gates said. and I said it too.

We sat down and cooked some hot dogs.

My brother, looking down, noted "hey! I can probably patch in right here!"

and bill gates and I were like, "dude, is that a good idea, susan told us to go 10 miles from here down this cavern of such emmensity that words cannot describe! what with the 2 miles up, two miles wide lookin' like we are in some kind of super-sized grand canyon turned on top of another grand canyon, all eeriely lit with the subtle mist and maintenance craft flying about."

So my brother used his crowbar to pry open a flexible piece of the several hundred meter radius backbone line and began ripping wires and fiber out with various suprising electromagnetic phenomena.


the hot dogs were finished! did you cook the burrito's too? was what I asked my brother.

but he was too busy putting wires on his tounge and kicking over toolboxes while cursing to notice.

so i plopped down next to bill who had 5 hot dogs on a plate.

"bill dude!" i laughed, "you are going to eat 5 hot dogs? I mean those are the sausage hot dogs you know, they're quite hearty."

Bill was like, "Dude, 5 hot dogs is all it takes to live."

"okaaay" says I.

The trouble with being poor is that it takes up all your time.