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quote/lyrics: we kissed like we invented it.
occupation: music shop employee
alias: han
age: 25
Joined: 7-February 15
Status: (Offline)
Last Seen: Nov 5 2016, 12:38 AM
Local Time: May 26 2018, 10:30 PM
293 posts (0.2 per day)
( 5.66% of total forum posts )
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keegan alexander

the commoners

My Content
Apr 15 2015, 12:10 AM
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</div><p><div style="font-family: arial; color: #000; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 95%; letter-spacing: 2px;">SOMETIMES I COULD REALLY USE A HELPING</div><div style="font-family: oswald; color: #0A122A; font-size: 100px; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: 4px; text-transform: uppercase; line-height: 95%; ">HAND</div><div style="width: 245px; height: 350px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-top: 6px;"><div style="width: 240px; height: 350px; padding-right: 4px; font-family: calibri; color: #000; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; line-height: 100%; background: #fff; overflow: auto;" class="bellarkescroll">

The day was not going according to plan. Not that Keegan ever really had much of a plan, other than 'get through the day,' but even that seemed to be proving difficult. Which was strange, since it was only a random Wednesday and you wouldn't think that anything particularly earth-shattering would happen on such a peculiar day. But his sister had been having night terrors -- again -- so he'd gotten very little sleep, which then caused him to sleep straight through his alarm, so that he was completely late for work. After being reprimanded for a solid twenty minutes by his boss, Keegan had then managed to come in contact with not one, but two horribly rude customers, and by the end of his shift he was hardly able to keep a straight face. He ran to the supermarket to pick up a few things, since the kitchen was completely devoid of food, and discovered that his credit card was on default. So he'd had to put back at least half of the food he had intended to buy, and spend the last twenty-dollar bill that he had on some chicken nuggets and other odds and ends so that he'd be able to get his sister through the week.
When he arrived at the babysitters' to pick Brooklyn up, he realized had to beg the poor girl to let him pay her next week, since he'd forgotten that he wasn't getting his paycheck from work until next Friday. On the way back to the apartment, Brooklyn had a temper-tantrum as Keegan stressed over how he was going to make it the next nine days with only seven dollars to his name. As he pulled up to the apartment complex and killed his ignition, he wondered what else was going to go wrong today. Would Brooklyn have a fever? He checked her forehead -- nope, she was fine. Crisis averted. Would the bag rip and all of his food get ruined? He made it into the building just fine without anything going wrong. Phew. Maybe he'd finally had his share of misfortune for the day. Things were starting to look up.
He felt much too exhausted to climb the three flights of stairs it would take to get to his apartment, especially with a bag of groceries in one arm and his three-year-old sister in the other, so Keegan opted to take the elevator up. There was already one other person waiting for it, so as he approached, the doors were already in the process of opening. He stepped in, placed his sister down on her feet, and pressed the button labelled floor 3. The doors closed, the elevator started moving...
And then it stopped. Keegan's brow furrowed for a moment - it didn't seem like they'd gotten very far at all. Were they really already at the third floor? He glanced over at the keypad to see if the stranger next to him at plugged in the first floor or something -- nope. And the doors weren't opening, either. Keegan reached forward and pressed the '3' button again, and then the button with the symbol to open the doors. Nothing happened.
And that was when it dawned on him. His bad luck was only just beginning.

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hope this is okay!

</div></div></div></div></div></div><a href=""><div style="width: 295px; color: #000; font-family: calibri; font-size: 7px; letter-spacing: 3px; margin-top: 3px; text-align: center;">WHAT KATY DID</div></a></center><style>.bellarkescroll::-webkit-scrollbar { width: 1px;}
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Mar 2 2015, 08:39 PM
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<h1>KEEGAN. 24. MUSIC SHOP EMPLOYEE. THE COMMONERS</h1><div class="mcharmain">
<img src=""><div class="mchabout">

click on the words in the boxes to open a tab. click on the corner X to close current tab before opening a new tab, because the tabs overlap.

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<h2>KEEGAN JAMES ALEXANDER</h2><div class="mctextmain">

<a href="">ALEXANDER, KEEGAN</a><br>
<a href="">THE SELDOM SEEN KID</a> <br>
<a href="">THE BRO CODE</a> <br>
want ad - FILLED<BR><BR>

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<h2>KEEGAN'S RELATIONSHIPS</h2><div class="mctextmain">

ANNA JAMES; acquaintences (played by kay) <br>
AVERY MICHAELS; co-worker, close friend (played by mooshi)<br>
BROOKLYN ALEXANDER; half-sister, age 4 (npc)<br>
VALERIE WHEELER; girlfriend (played by michelle)<br>
VIVIANNA WARRICK; fling (played by jessie)<br>
ZANE HARTMAN: ex-friend, former drug dealer (played by jessie)

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<h2>KEEGAN'S CURRENT THREADS</h2><div class="mctextmain">

<a href="">GERONIMO</a> — <i>with vivianna warrick</i><br>
keegan stops by his friend avery's new place to drop off a CD he had borrowed. instead of finding avery at home, however, he ends up meeting his friend's new roommate, vivianna, who offers to make him breakfast.<BR><BR>

<a href="">CHILLIN' LIKE VILLAINS</a> — <i>with avery michaels</i><br>
keegan's spending his afternoon off hanging out at avery's place, playing video games and bro-ing out. <BR><BR>

<a href="">I BET YOU CAN'T</a> — <i>with vivianna warrick</i><br>
keegan and viv plan to meet up at the park for a picnic, because keegan can never say no to free food. bringing his sister along, the they enjoy the pleasures of good food, the great outdoors, and excellent company.<BR><BR>

<a href="">TO MAKE YOU SMILE</a> — <i>with vivianna warrick</i><br>
keegan gets a racy picture sent to his phone by vivianna, and a conversation ensues as viv's feelings start to become clearer and keegan just gets more confused.<BR><BR>

<a href="">LOVE ME LIKE YOU DO</a> — <i>with vivianna warrick</i><br>
after getting drunk off a bottle of captain morgan, vivianna offers to pay for keegan's cab ride to her place so they can hang out. keegan agrees, and when he arrives, he gets much more than he bargained for.<BR><BR>

<a href="">SAVE ME</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
when brooklyn breaks her arm in the middle of the night, keegan rushes her to the hospital, where valerie is there to save the day. after confessing to her that he had 'been with someone else,' a long, painful night of worry ensues, before keegan and valerie finally make up, make things official, and make plans to move in together.<BR><BR>

<a href="">BEST COMPANY</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
keegan and valerie text about relationship-y things. because that's what people do when they're in a relationship.<BR><BR>

<a href="">HOME</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
first, keegan and valerie meet up at his mother's apartment to collect some of keegan and brooklyn's things to bring back to his apartment. when they're finished with that trip, they head over to valerie's parents', where brooklyn is waiting for them -- and so is a meet-and-greet dinner.<BR><BR>

<a href="">FORTY SHADES OF GREEN [M]</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
it's st. patricks day, and keegan and valerie head out for a night on the town, complete with crazy outfits, lots of booze, and plenty of debauchery.<BR><BR>

<a href="link">THREAD TITLE</a> — <i>participants</i><br>
summary of the thread<BR><BR>


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<h2>KEEGAN'S COMPLETED THREADS</h2><div class="mctextmain">

<a href="">THIRSTY THURSDAYS</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
complete. after being ditched at cameo nightclub by avery, keegan runs into an acquaintance, valerie, who has also been abandoned by her friends and has had a little too much to drink. keegan, dead-sober, offers to take her home, and finds himself alone with a drunk valerie in her apartment. like the gentleman he is, however, keegan does not think it wise to do anything with valerie -- no matter how badly he may want to.


<a href="">SAY CHEESE [m]</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
complete. keegan and his little sister brooklyn are invited over valerie's house for some pizza, and wind up spending the night. after a few uncomfortable moments -- namely, brooklyn thinking that valerie is her new mommy, and brooklyn waking up at a very inopportune time because she wet valerie's bed -- keegan and valerie share an intimate night together... a few times. (rated mature for explicit sexual content)<BR><BR>

<a href="">HOLE IN ONE</a> — <i>with valerie wheeler</i><br>
complete. keegan takes valerie on their first date, to palmetto mini golf, where he learns just how bad she is with sports, and just how great she is at making him smile.<BR><BR>


<div style="font-size: 7px; text-transform: uppercase; font-family: georgia; letter-spacing: 1px; word-spacing: 3px;"><a href="">THEONS</a> @ SHINE</div></center>[/dohtml]
Feb 23 2015, 04:40 PM
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<h2>click for shipper</h2>

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okay, so this is a semi-open want ad, and i'm just going to call the character tyler for now, for obvious reasons, but you're 100% welcome to choose any name you want for him.
so the backstory here is that tyler attended school with keegan at ASU. they didn't necessarily have to be in the same year or anything (which could put tyler at being anywhere from 23 - 27), and i'm not at all picky about what tyler majored in, but he and keegan met somehow and became really good friends. which would've been great, since keegs could probably have used some friends in college... except for the fact that he probably wouldn't have had to drop out had it not been for tyler.
after keegs learned about his mother's pregnancy he was very vulnerable -- and that was when tyler decided to take advantage of the situation. a drug dealer on campus, tyler provided his friend with some oxy, and after a few uses, keegan was hooked. now keegs was not only tyler's friend, but his customer, and in a period of a few months keegan spiraled from being a B-student to horrendously flunking all of his classes. keegan's scholarship was taken away, leading him to drop out of college and move back to miami, where he's been ever since.
it's been around 4 years since, so naturally tyler will have graduated ASU, and i figure he could easily relocate to miami due to a job offer. it's really up to you whether or not he's still in the business of dealing drugs, though i'm sure keegan resents the guy a bit no matter what. after moving back to miami, keegan cut out the oxy cold-turkey, and he's slowly trying to rebuild his life... now, the question stands: will tyler tear it all down again? or will they be able to start fresh, and rekindle a friendship?
i'm a sucker for picspam so i'd like for the face claim to be either tyler posey or tyler hoechlin. but if you're not into that, i'm open to other suggestions, too. i'm not super picky, so just let me know.

<div style="width: 500px; position: absolute; bottom: -10px; text-align: center; font: normal normal 700 8px/100% Arial; letter-spacing: 1px"><a href="">THX &raquo</a></div>
Feb 7 2015, 01:04 PM
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<h1>keegan alexander</h1>
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<h2>about keegan</h2>
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so this is keegan. he grew up in miami, and was really hoping to leave it all behind him when he went off to college, because he has a lot of baggage connected to this place. but, unfortunate circumstances eventually led him back here, and up until recently he'd been working at a music shop to make ends meet and crashing on the couch in his mother's run-down apartment, trying to keep an eye on his four-year-old half-sister. his mother is a drug addict, and all-around not a very nice person, and living with her caused a lot of trauma, so now he and his sister have moved in with his girlfriend, valerie wheeler. although he struggles with warding off his own addictions, and suffers from anxiety, in many ways, at 24, he's still just a goofy, sarcastic kid at heart.
good friends of keegan usually call him keegs or kj. i'm sure there are at least a few people running around miami that keegan was friends with growing up, but he's also got some new friends -- people who he's been hanging out with ever since he got back to miami after college didn't work out. he likes to keep things lighthearted, and is always good to crack a joke, so if you want someone around to lighten your mood, keegs is your guy.
keegan's snarky guise can sometimes come off as a little pretentious and rude, so i imagine there are plenty of people that he just doesn't get along with. he's a little outspoken and not afraid to tell it like it is, so if he senses any BS, you'd better be sure that he's going to call you out on it. he might be skinny and pale, but he's definitely scrappy, and plenty resourceful - he needs to be; the kid's seen some stuff. so if you're going to get on his bad side, watch out.
keegan's heart is currently taken by valerie wheeler.

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<h2>relationships</h2><div class="jrad1content"><p>
<h3>avery michaels</h3> co-workers, best bros <p>
<h3>vivianna warrick </h3> friends, one-time fling<p>
<h3>valerie wheeler</h3> dating, lovers <p>
<h3>anna james</h3> acquaintances, eventual friends <p>
<h3>milo windsor</h3> past neighbors, friends <p>



<div style="width: 480px; font-family: Arial; margin: 0 auto; font-size: 25px; text-align: right; line-height: 70%;"><a href="">&raquo</a></div></div>[/dohtml]

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  keegan & name

Feb 7 2015, 04:22 AM
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keegan james alexander

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keegan j. alexander

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May 25

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music shop employee

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the commoners

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miami, florida

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dylan o'brien

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From a young age, I could tell I didn’t quite belong – it was like I was an f sharp in a world of b flats. And when I say b flat, I’m talking flat. Growing up, it always seemed like everyone around me was so one-dimensional. Even as a little kid I could tell that I was different: while all of the other mommies were picking up their kids and driving them to soccer practice before heading over to the PTA meeting with a plate of cookies, I was always that one kid waiting for my Mommy on the front steps of the school, unsure of how to tell the principal that, once again, she probably wasn’t going to show.
I’m still not really sure how the principal made it through all those years without ever calling child protective services. Hell, who knows, maybe he did and I was just too young and naïve to realize what was going on. Still, I think he—along with most people in the town—mostly just felt bad for my mom. Which is stupid. Nobody ought to feel bad for the person who makes a bunch of bad life choices and is too stubborn to admit that they dug themselves too deep.
Granted, my mom didn’t have the easiest life. She met this guy when she was a teenager, and he got her into some really bad stuff – drugs and all that. So, naturally, instead of trying to actually parent her like parents are supposed to do, my grandparents just decided to disown her.
It seems like terrible parenting runs in my family. Note to self: never have kids.
Anyway, my mom was fourteen years old and already unleashed alone on the streets of Miami, so she did the most obvious thing that a fourteen-year-old homeless kid could do, and moved in with her drug-addled boyfriend. Did I mention that this dude was seventeen at the time? Don’t even get me started on how disgusting that is; I don’t want to think about it. It’s my mom.
I’m sure you can guess where this is going, since I’m here in the flesh talking to you right now. My mom was fifteen when she had me. According to my grandmother, she was pretty doped up the entire time she was pregnant, presumably on dope; but I’m not really sure how much I can trust my grandma’s knowledge on this, considering she wasn’t on speaking terms with my mother at the time. Luckily I turned out to be a mostly normal kid, at least in the sense that I don’t have any crazy physical deformations or anything. So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice. Too bad that didn’t make my mom any less psychotic.
There’s this thing about fifteen year olds that’s always exactly the same no matter what fifteen year old you’re talking to, and it’s this: they’re fixated on the notion of endless possibilities. I mean, seriously, talk to any fifteen year old. They think they’re indestructible. They say “We’re going to be together forever,” to some person they’ve been dating for a whole fucking week, or they say “That will never happen to me,” about STDs or drunk driving accidents and all this other bullshit – and the sad part is, they believe it. Until, of course, they reach sixteen or seventeen and realize their disillusionment (when half of them inevitably get an STD or into a drunk driving accident). Trust me, I know; I was fifteen once too; that makes me a prime eyewitness. All the kids around me were fucking up royally, and I was the lame-ass loser that watched everyone else live their life from the sidelines. I know, sucks to be me, right? But at least I wasn’t my mother, who was possibly the dumbest fifteen year old of all time, and believed that she could raise a baby just because it was hers. Like pushing a human out of your vag automatically makes you qualified to win some world’s best mother award.
But the truth was, she couldn’t raise a baby, because, news-flash, she was a fifteen-year-old drug addict. And guess what? The moment her seventeen-year-old boyfriend-slash-babydaddy turned into her eighteen-year-old boyfriend-slash-babydaddy, he skipped town and became her eighteen-year-old ex-boyfriend(-slash-my deadbeat dad). Go figure, right? If you happen to be fifteen, I bet you never saw that coming. My mom didn’t. I’m pretty sure every other person in the world could’ve guessed that one, though.
That’s not to say that I grew up without a dad. Truth is, I had a whole bunch of dads—just none of them lasted very long. I don’t even remember most of the guys my mom brought home, to be honest. Once I figured out the pattern—come into my life, stay a short time, leave, rinse and repeat with some new guy—I realized that they weren’t worth remembering. Plus, I always liked the in-between times better; the short snippets of time when my mom’s attention was only focused on me, and not some new guy that would always take her away from me. She would always do these silly little things, like call me out sick from school and take me to the park so we could run around together all day. I think she was trying to make up for being a bad mom most of the time by trying to be a good mom. Except, it’s pretty debatable as to whether pulling your child out of school is being a good mom. But I guess she tried.
The rest of the time, though, was terrible. Some of the guys she brought home would yell at her, and I learned pretty quickly that if mommy told me to go to my room, that meant go to your room and don’t come out until we’ve come down off our high. Nobody ever hit me or anything, my mom was at least smart enough to make sure she never put me in that situation. But man, I saw more stuff as a little kid than any kid’s innocent eyes should be allowed to see. Mostly, I guess, I’ve repressed it; or at least channeled it into something else.
I discovered music at a pretty early age; I had this stupid little Walkman that my mom probably stole because she mostly spent her money on crack, and boy did I cherish that thing. It played cassette tapes, and since most of the kids my age had already moved on to CD players, a lot of my peers at school just let me have their tapes. I realize now that I was clearly just the pity-case child, begging for things that were completely out-of-date, but honestly? I don't really care. Music was my life-force: I played those stupid hand-me-down tapes non-stop, to the point where I couldn’t sleep without my headphones on. To this day, I still sometimes need some soft, ambient music on in order to get a good night’s rest.
When I was fourteen, my mom got involved with a really nasty guy—to be frank, this dude scared the shit out of me. I managed to scope out my grandparents’ address using a computer at the public library, and that same night I packed my backpack up with some clothes and hitchhiked across town to where they were. I guess they ended up calling my mom or something, to tell them that I was staying there with them, but they never told me that, so for years I thought my mom had just forgotten about me altogether.
Living with my grandparents wasn’t a cakewalk. You would think that a kid coming from as hostile a situation as living in squalor at a drug addict’s apartment would find solace in a middle-aged, middle-class suburban couple’s life. But, the thing was, I didn’t even know my grandparents. At all. They had disowned my mother before I was born, and it took a lot of explaining for them to even come to terms with the fact that they had a grandson, and I was it. And once the relief of being welcomed into their home wore away, I found myself uncertain of who these strangers expected me to be. Did they think I was some ruffian who didn’t know right from wrong? Or were they going to place high expectations on me in order for me to continue living in their household?
The answer, I quickly found, was both. They set so many boundaries I felt like my life was booby-trapped. It was stifling, to say the least, trying to live up to who they wanted me to be: it was like I was filling the shoes of both my mother and myself at the same time. She had failed them, so I had to be double the success. And yet, I know they looked at me with a sense of disgust. How dare I have the audacity to be a fourteen-year-old with a twenty-nine-year-old mother!? As if I had any choice.
Things were tense, to say the least. It was like every time I had something to say, they were expecting me to tell them about some girl I had knocked up or something. I just wanted to pin a sign to my forehead that said: NEWSFLASH: I AM NOT MY MOTHER. I hadn’t even touched a drop of alcohol at fourteen, never mind a girl. My grandparents had nothing to worry about with me, but still, they worried. Now, I wonder, if they had worried this much about their own child, maybe I wouldn’t even be here – I might not exist at all. Sometimes I wonder if that would’ve been a good thing.
In a weird way, High School became my escape from reality. I wasn't a very good student, to be honest, but I didn’t mind school; even though most of these kids’ parents probably knew at least a little about my home life, nobody my age seemed to have any clue. I liked it that way. All I had to do was come up with some simple excuses as to why we couldn’t hang out at my place, and things were golden. I only ever had a few near run-ins with the truth, and I managed to navigate through all of them unscathed. I am one sly motherfucker.
My grandparents were nice enough to let me stay with them, but they weren’t my parents, and they were working on saving up for their own retirement (because, like responsible people, they waited until their 30s to start popping out kids), so when it came to college, I was on my own--I didn’t even bother asking my mother. I applied to a few places, and was fortunate enough to get a full ride to ASU (I’m just that awesome), so my decision was basically made for me, but I didn’t really mind. ASU had this awesome program in music therapy that I was really interested in, and when I got there I discovered their program for Music Composition and decided to double up on that. The course load wasn’t so bad, but the temptation was—I mean, come on, it’s a huge party school. I held it off at first because I knew I needed to make sure my life didn’t turn to the shitter the way my mom’s had. That kind of thinking got me through my first year with flying colors, and very few friends.
But when I found out that my mother was pregnant again in my sophomore year, everything changed. I started thinking to myself “bro, you are nothing like your mom,” which was true, but thinking that way started getting me into that stupid fifteen-year-old mindset that I never really got to have when I was fifteen because too much shit was going on. And that’s what screwed me over, that mindset. Because I thought I was invincible.
So I partied, and I partied hard. That year, I made friends, and plenty of things were flying, nice and high-- but none of them were my grades. And it came back to bite me in the ass. By the end of my junior year I had flunked so many classes that they took away my scholarship. And hell if I could afford tuition. So, I had to drop out. There was no other choice. I had ruined my only chance at freedom, and I winded up right back where I started.
Only this time, I was forced to live on the couch in my mother's run-down apartment, working only to spend my hard-earned money on paying her rent. And of course, I had to be a father to my baby sister. Which sounds like something out of Oedipus Rex, but I just mean that I’m the one taking care of her, because my mother sure as hell doesn’t know how.
Things aren’t all bad, though. My sister’s three now, and she’s pretty cute. Whatever dude knocked my mother up this time around took a cue from my own bio dad and hightailed it out of here as soon as he could. If only we all had that luxury.
Without a degree, it’s pretty hard to find a job in the music industry, believe it or not; at least, if you’re like me, and you don’t actually play an instrument. I mean, I dabble, but I’m no rock god or classical genius or anything like that. So, instead of composing harmonies, I’m working in a music store, watching other people buy instruments that I'd never be able to afford as I sift through old records while pretending to organize the sale bin, and wonder what the hell I'm doing with my life.
And even after two and a half years of wondering, I still haven't figured shit out. I'm starting to think that maybe no one has. Maybe we're all just walking through life, doing the best that we can not to fuck everything up too much. If that's the case, I can't exactly say I'm doing a good job of it...
But I wouldn't say I'm failing either. I guess that's a start.

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han . est . wanted

</div><div style='margin-top:8px; width:450px; text-align:center; font-family:calibri; font-size:8px; color:#777; line-height:100%; letter-spacing:4px;'> THANKS TO LOUIS AT ATF!</div>
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