Downstairs at an NYC bar, in a room that smelled of cologne and desperation, the dance music suddenly gave way to Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'." Suddenly, the room was united in people pumping their fists in the air, throwing their heads back and singing in that heartfelt Steve Perry way.
A knot of dread grew in my stomach. I knew we had to leave.
Rob
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Caucasiclysm
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4 comments:
Nice Googlewhack (tm)with "caucasiclysm."
Are you sure you didn't mean to type:
A knot of dread grew in my stomach. I knew we had to
I Googlewhacked? That honestly made my night, sir.
It's a shame how much fun irony makes us miss.
Or just good taste.
P.S.: I think these lines (and the title) would be a great beginning of a story.
I'm with Jeri. (And she knows from good first sentences.)
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