WriteDate(September, 28, 2006);

Cartoon.image := := #36;

Why do we care about what perfect strangers think about how we look? To some degree, pretty much everyone has this concern - even though it's almost certain that we will never interact with these people. I hope my pimple doesn't show too much. I cant wear this skirt, I haven't shaved my legs. I can't pick my nose here, I'm in public. Are the hairs in my back showing? Yeah, this is my lip piercing, do you have a problem with it? Oh no, my shirt's inside out, I bet everyone noticed! My mohawk sure makes me stand out! I got sunburnt, I look like a jackass. Ha ha, look at my dark eye, everyone knows I was in a fight. Look at me, I am naked and painted blue! Agh, my fourth arm came out of my anus again! And so on and so forth. I say, pay no mind to these things, liberate yourself from extraneous fleeting glances! Now excuse me while I pluck my eyelashes just right so that they will look perfect when I go out. Man, my new shirt is gonna turn some heads! *I am actually going to bed at this moment; I don't pluck my eyelashes or buy shirts merely for their stetic value. the previous statements are only for the sake of the joke and to evidence the contradiction that this topic arises, or rather the dichotomy between the reality that is and what one would ideally behave like. I realize this footnote is absolutely unnecessary and you must be tremendously bored by now - besides, it's way past my bedtime and I should be going to sleep instead of typing right here. So I am going to stop writing at the precise moment that is coming in a few seconds after I finish the present sentence, which is now. Although, I didn't stop writing when I wrote "now", since I still had to write the full stop.*);

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Lord Mirrabbo
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