02-26-2004, 07:18 PM
a black hole that never shuts up, piles work on you desk and smells like the bathroom in the deep dark depths of Penn Station.
<marquee>We are the music-makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams; World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers Of the world for ever, it seems.</marquee>