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- Mitch
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- 20
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About
"We shouldn't be cock-blocking McLovin,
we should be guiding his cock."
Words to live by.
I'm Mitch.
I love my girlfriend Chelsea, and history - especially Ancient Egypt, RMS Titanic and WW1.
I like tennis, photography, urban exploration, and reading Canadian WW1 conscription papers.
I hate rude, self-richeous people.
I say whats on my mind and don't mind what I say.
I listen to the kooks, say anything, all time low, chiodos, underoath, drop dead gorgeous, alexisonfire, marianas trench, broken social scene, queens of the stone age, ten second epic, coheed & cambria, from first to last, the used, brand new, senses fail, paramore, cute is what we aim for, fall out boy, the spill canvas.
___________my youth is slipping
__________my youth is slipping away
___________safe in monotony SO SAFE day after day
_____________COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS
___________my youth is slipping
__________my youth is slipping away
___________cold wind blows off the lake
____________and I know for sure that its too late
______________COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS ON ONE HAND
Diary entries: 1914-1916
Nov. 15, 1914 Pond Farm, Salisbury Plain. Canadians are the only troops under canvas in England; our tents often leak. Without wooden floors the rain would soon have swamped us. For the first month it rained every day.
We were addressed one Sunday by an archbishop, a distinguished old mutt who talked about the "Powah of prayah" and other useful dope. It is astonishing that on our only day of rest they make us listen to a sermon.
Dec. 16, 1914 Many soldiers go on pass, meet their affinity the first day, marry her the second and return to duty the next day. One of the squadron toughs is to be married tomorrow to a girl he saw for half an hour when he deserted. They had a touching interview in the guardhouse where he was doing cells. I saw her myself, as I was provost that day, and she is very good-looking.
Dec. 20, 1914 London. Yesterday, scouting around Westminster Abbey, by accident I got into one of the main chapels while Lord Morley something or other was in the act of getting married. The assemblage was certainly a swell turnout. Eight bridesmaids, military uniforms, silk hats, furs and flowers. When the bride and groom marched down the aisle to where the public waited, I tagged along trying to look like a poor cousin. Street hawkers outside sold souvenirs, so it must have been quite an occasion.
Jan. 28, 1915 How many months can a man go without one change of underwear and socks, and still feel clean? This subject caused much discussion last night on account of the small kit we will be allowed to carry. Ericsson is going to wear two suits of underwear and socks. Charlton will rob the dead and loot houses for clothing. On one point all are unanimous: "Keatings Insect Powder must accompany the troops!"
May 1, 1915 Dr. Todd, regimental physician, gave the entire regiment a very cursory examination this morning. He looked at each man who stood naked beside his bed, and then passed us all.
May 14, 1915 France. It rained hard last night and there was heavy firing. I had no groundsheets or blanket in my bivouac, but I managed to pinch a few bread sacks and a slimy, wet, stinking horse blanket which, with my overcoat, made a very good covering and I slept well.
May 16, 1915 Contraine. We are billeted in a farmhouse. In the yard is an immense manure pit while five yards from the door is a drinking fountain and a brick cistern, a regular cesspool, for the cattle. Our men refused to let the horses, even if they would, drink the slimy, green, oily liquid (like thick soup infested by black beetles).
There is an artillery duel in progress. We witnessed prisoners go by this morning, about 300 in all from Bavarian regiments, strapping fellows, all 16 or 17 years old. One poor fellow had his face dented where someone had lammed him one with the butt end of a Lee-Enfield.
We have been issued with respirators to guard against the gas. They are squares of absorbent cotton filled with certain chemicals, about six inches square -- sufficient to cover nose, mouth and eyes.
May 18, 1915 Morant has become the most unpopular man on the staff as the rum had been issued to him in gallon jugs to be divided among 35 men. In the dark, he tripped and prostrated himself in the mud, breaking the Sacred Vessel and drenching himself with the contents. Our lamentations were heart-rending, and a couple ran over to see if any pieces of the jar might not possibly contain a few drops of the joyful fluid. Alas, the wreckage had been complete.
May 21, 1915 Long Cornet. Since Ypres, we have come into our own, and are no longer looked upon as a wild mob of savages from the colonies. The fire was very heavy about 2 a.m. when the German assault was repulsed with great loss -- to the Germans.
The barn was crawling with vermin and, as we are still finicky about such things, Cleary, Burch and I slept under a tree. About midnight, Sgt. Foster and Burley joined us. They had been driven from their dugout by the rats. Foster was delirious as he shook like a leaf and his teeth chattered.
We are very short of hay and I often surreptitiously take the horses out to graze the corner of some field. The farmer here charges us a penny per pound for oats. When this present little fracas is over, we really should come back and make an example of some of these tightwads!
7:10 p.m. Our "A" Squadron returned from their first time in the trenches without a single casualty. Yesterday was quiet, just sniping which the boys found interesting. They are looking forward to their next turn.
May 26, 1915 Cannonading is heavy and continuous and the shells sound like an express train or scream like huge sheets of heavy wrapping paper being torn apart. The machine-gun fire is irregular as is also the rifle fire.
2 p.m. Yesterday, I saw one poor fellow taken from the dressing station. He was unhurt, but was alternately sobbing, loudly crying like a child and then laughing fiendishly. Some may eventually recover, but death would likely have been more merciful.
7:30 p.m. The 5th Western Cavalry Battalion just pulled in. There are only about 300 left, as tough and rough a bunch as you ever saw outside a jail. Some carry nothing but a rifle and bandolier. No one has an overcoat. Of all the undisciplined crews I ever saw, this rabble has them beaten. But if you think by their appearance that they cannot fight, why just ask the Prussian Guard. These men are fighters!
May 27, 1915 Long Cornet. Glad to get out of the danger zone, although even here we are liable to long-range fire. At 9 a.m., shells tore up the dirt in front of our field. The last one dropped on the road near us and then the bombardment ceased. Just after this display, I walked up toward the firing line. It was a fine sunny morning; birds sang in the trees -- just a peaceful country scene, until a heavy ambulance wagon rumbled up bearing groaning and crippled soldiers.
Soon, I came on the advance dressing station. A water cart was drawn up on one side. Men with stretchers stood near the door. Just then shrapnel started to scream and burst behind us with an awful crack. The stretcher-bearers leaped for a dugout and I ran straight ahead, not daring to look back as the bursting of shells became very rapid, each falling shorter than the one before.
June 14, 1915 The 1st Batt. lost all their officers but one. Col. Beecher of London was standing beside the bomb throwers when some idiot, idly swinging his detonating bomb from side to side, struck the back of the trench and the blast tore off the Colonel's legs. He begged the men to shoot him, but his mind soon went and he died calling for his mother.
June 18, 1915 At Vauxhall Bridge last night, I saw many wounded walking back. They had lost two-thirds of their number and the survivors drank their fallen comrades' share of the rum issue.
June 27, 1915 Now, a few words about the baggage which Gen. Seely [of the Canadian Cavalry Brigade] and his staff carry with them. One fauteuil carries table supplies, cooking utensils, dinner service, wines, champagnes, cigars, fruit and all sorts of delicacies. On the wagon are their kits, mattresses and bed clothing; many coats, changes of clothing, saddlebags, swords and walking sticks, folding bathtubs and boxes of junk which may come in handy. Five officers have 12 body servants and grooms.
July 1, 1915 If I were in Windsor today, we would be taking the good ship Papoose from Bois Blanc and arranging for dinner in Amherst House. After that, "cruise up the walks" for an afternoon's tango and hesitation [a dance step] in the pavilion. Return to Windsor to gorge on pie and a dixie of cocoa. Instead, I am in a stable in a strange country, and we will be lucky to get back for Dominion Day next year, as we are deadlocked on the front with neither side able to advance a yard.
In the estaminet [bistro] in Merriss, some boys entered singing and looking very pleased with themselves. They were conscripts and will serve for a penny a day. They were off to camp before being hurried to those uncovered graves -- the trenches. This is not war at all, but a series of long-distance murders.
July 13, 1915 When the trenches are quiet, time passes as slowly as a jail sentence. Cooped in a hole two or three feet wide, the men pass the time writing (letters short and few are the rule); reading (books are scarce and thumb worn); cards (no more than a couple of hands). It would be a relief to be attacked or even shelled.
July 22, 1915 Canadians who were reviewed by [Prime Minister Robert] Borden received him very coldly and marched back to their billets in silence. As one man put it, "They were tired of hearing the same old bull."
Nov. 16, 1915 St-Omer. This [officers' training] course is rather -- peculiar. One point of the utmost importance is personal appearance. Maj. Willis says the care of fingernails marks an officer and a gentleman! Now, finger inspection is a regular parade and the students have to shove their lunch hooks out for the officer to inspect.
Dec. 5, 1915I became a 2nd Lieutenant with the Sherwood Foresters at midnight, so today I wear an English officer's uniform.
Dec. 14, 1915 London. As soon as I join the new regiment, my pay (about 10 shillings per day) will be put to my credit. The British Army wants its officers to live like officers, and not eat their meals at Beefsteak Tony's, or board at Sloppy Eliza's! All transportation must be first class on railways, but it seems alright to ride in the tube or on buses in town.
Jan. 14, 1916 France. I was greatly amused by A company in their trench. As soon as they were safe from a shell, their heads appeared over the parapet, and they would wait patiently for coming events. When whizzing from the oncoming shell was heard, they would cry "Here she comes" (like fans at a racetrack), and then all heads would duck until the burst was heard when they would immediately bob up again. It is marvellous the number of shells which the enemy wastes to get one of our men, yet they do get them sometimes.
Jan. 22, 1916 All along the line lie dead British soldiers covered with a thin layer of mud. I ran across some seven or eight bodies facing down. Their clothing was almost rotting away as were also the bodies. Many had no heads.
St Patrick's Day, 1916 Duchess of Westminster Hospital, France. You see, it was like this. Going to the trenches, I took the Gunners Walk, of which I have always been suspicious as being a bullet-swept area when we are going in or coming out, and I also have felt that the enemy have discovered our days of relief. About halfway up the trench, which was only waist deep, one of the bullets whizzing overhead stopped on catching sight of me and I felt a smashing blow on the cheek such as a boxer might deliver. My face was covered with blood, and yet no particular part of me seemed more stunned than another. However, as soon as I had got my bearings and allayed all the excitement among the men behind me, I ordered them to go on, with the exception of one man whom I left lying in the trench with instructions to warn all other relieving parties that they were in a danger zone.
Aug. 5, 1916 London. Recruiting goes merrily on. In Trafalgar Square immense crowds gather at the Nelson column while sergeants and officers harangue them from the steps and soldiers pass through the crowd urging men to Come up to the Colours, like a Salvation Army revival where people are pleaded with to come up and be saved. Every once in a while, some civilian who can no longer stand the pressure mounts the steps and accepts the King's shilling while the band plays and exhorters testify: "Join now, boys, and spend a delightful winter in the trenches!"
Sept. 22, 1916 Calais. About noon, we were given instruction in the new gas helmets, run about the grounds, then locked in a chamber with the thickest possible gas, followed by lachrymose gas; then another run with gas helmets on.
POSTSCRIPT
John Patrick Teahan was reported missing in action on Oct. 9, 1916. The Sherwood Foresters' War Diary describes that day's battle:
There was no artillery preparation. In accordance with orders, the Battalion made an attack on the Schwaben Redoubt. The assault was carried out at 4:30 a.m. under cover of darkness. The assaulting waves had not gone more than half the distance across No Man's Land before enemy machine gun and rifle fire was opened. Our casualties were heavy, numbering 13 officers. Other ranks: 26 killed, 134 wounded and 64 missing.
(Some of this material has been previously published in Diary Kid, Oberon Press, 1999. The original diaries reside in the Canadian War Museum, Ottawa.)
we should be guiding his cock."
Words to live by.
I'm Mitch.
I love my girlfriend Chelsea, and history - especially Ancient Egypt, RMS Titanic and WW1.
I like tennis, photography, urban exploration, and reading Canadian WW1 conscription papers.
I hate rude, self-richeous people.
I say whats on my mind and don't mind what I say.
I listen to the kooks, say anything, all time low, chiodos, underoath, drop dead gorgeous, alexisonfire, marianas trench, broken social scene, queens of the stone age, ten second epic, coheed & cambria, from first to last, the used, brand new, senses fail, paramore, cute is what we aim for, fall out boy, the spill canvas.
___________my youth is slipping
__________my youth is slipping away
___________safe in monotony SO SAFE day after day
_____________COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS
___________my youth is slipping
__________my youth is slipping away
___________cold wind blows off the lake
____________and I know for sure that its too late
______________COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS ON ONE HAND
Diary entries: 1914-1916
Nov. 15, 1914 Pond Farm, Salisbury Plain. Canadians are the only troops under canvas in England; our tents often leak. Without wooden floors the rain would soon have swamped us. For the first month it rained every day.
We were addressed one Sunday by an archbishop, a distinguished old mutt who talked about the "Powah of prayah" and other useful dope. It is astonishing that on our only day of rest they make us listen to a sermon.
Dec. 16, 1914 Many soldiers go on pass, meet their affinity the first day, marry her the second and return to duty the next day. One of the squadron toughs is to be married tomorrow to a girl he saw for half an hour when he deserted. They had a touching interview in the guardhouse where he was doing cells. I saw her myself, as I was provost that day, and she is very good-looking.
Dec. 20, 1914 London. Yesterday, scouting around Westminster Abbey, by accident I got into one of the main chapels while Lord Morley something or other was in the act of getting married. The assemblage was certainly a swell turnout. Eight bridesmaids, military uniforms, silk hats, furs and flowers. When the bride and groom marched down the aisle to where the public waited, I tagged along trying to look like a poor cousin. Street hawkers outside sold souvenirs, so it must have been quite an occasion.
Jan. 28, 1915 How many months can a man go without one change of underwear and socks, and still feel clean? This subject caused much discussion last night on account of the small kit we will be allowed to carry. Ericsson is going to wear two suits of underwear and socks. Charlton will rob the dead and loot houses for clothing. On one point all are unanimous: "Keatings Insect Powder must accompany the troops!"
May 1, 1915 Dr. Todd, regimental physician, gave the entire regiment a very cursory examination this morning. He looked at each man who stood naked beside his bed, and then passed us all.
May 14, 1915 France. It rained hard last night and there was heavy firing. I had no groundsheets or blanket in my bivouac, but I managed to pinch a few bread sacks and a slimy, wet, stinking horse blanket which, with my overcoat, made a very good covering and I slept well.
May 16, 1915 Contraine. We are billeted in a farmhouse. In the yard is an immense manure pit while five yards from the door is a drinking fountain and a brick cistern, a regular cesspool, for the cattle. Our men refused to let the horses, even if they would, drink the slimy, green, oily liquid (like thick soup infested by black beetles).
There is an artillery duel in progress. We witnessed prisoners go by this morning, about 300 in all from Bavarian regiments, strapping fellows, all 16 or 17 years old. One poor fellow had his face dented where someone had lammed him one with the butt end of a Lee-Enfield.
We have been issued with respirators to guard against the gas. They are squares of absorbent cotton filled with certain chemicals, about six inches square -- sufficient to cover nose, mouth and eyes.
May 18, 1915 Morant has become the most unpopular man on the staff as the rum had been issued to him in gallon jugs to be divided among 35 men. In the dark, he tripped and prostrated himself in the mud, breaking the Sacred Vessel and drenching himself with the contents. Our lamentations were heart-rending, and a couple ran over to see if any pieces of the jar might not possibly contain a few drops of the joyful fluid. Alas, the wreckage had been complete.
May 21, 1915 Long Cornet. Since Ypres, we have come into our own, and are no longer looked upon as a wild mob of savages from the colonies. The fire was very heavy about 2 a.m. when the German assault was repulsed with great loss -- to the Germans.
The barn was crawling with vermin and, as we are still finicky about such things, Cleary, Burch and I slept under a tree. About midnight, Sgt. Foster and Burley joined us. They had been driven from their dugout by the rats. Foster was delirious as he shook like a leaf and his teeth chattered.
We are very short of hay and I often surreptitiously take the horses out to graze the corner of some field. The farmer here charges us a penny per pound for oats. When this present little fracas is over, we really should come back and make an example of some of these tightwads!
7:10 p.m. Our "A" Squadron returned from their first time in the trenches without a single casualty. Yesterday was quiet, just sniping which the boys found interesting. They are looking forward to their next turn.
May 26, 1915 Cannonading is heavy and continuous and the shells sound like an express train or scream like huge sheets of heavy wrapping paper being torn apart. The machine-gun fire is irregular as is also the rifle fire.
2 p.m. Yesterday, I saw one poor fellow taken from the dressing station. He was unhurt, but was alternately sobbing, loudly crying like a child and then laughing fiendishly. Some may eventually recover, but death would likely have been more merciful.
7:30 p.m. The 5th Western Cavalry Battalion just pulled in. There are only about 300 left, as tough and rough a bunch as you ever saw outside a jail. Some carry nothing but a rifle and bandolier. No one has an overcoat. Of all the undisciplined crews I ever saw, this rabble has them beaten. But if you think by their appearance that they cannot fight, why just ask the Prussian Guard. These men are fighters!
May 27, 1915 Long Cornet. Glad to get out of the danger zone, although even here we are liable to long-range fire. At 9 a.m., shells tore up the dirt in front of our field. The last one dropped on the road near us and then the bombardment ceased. Just after this display, I walked up toward the firing line. It was a fine sunny morning; birds sang in the trees -- just a peaceful country scene, until a heavy ambulance wagon rumbled up bearing groaning and crippled soldiers.
Soon, I came on the advance dressing station. A water cart was drawn up on one side. Men with stretchers stood near the door. Just then shrapnel started to scream and burst behind us with an awful crack. The stretcher-bearers leaped for a dugout and I ran straight ahead, not daring to look back as the bursting of shells became very rapid, each falling shorter than the one before.
June 14, 1915 The 1st Batt. lost all their officers but one. Col. Beecher of London was standing beside the bomb throwers when some idiot, idly swinging his detonating bomb from side to side, struck the back of the trench and the blast tore off the Colonel's legs. He begged the men to shoot him, but his mind soon went and he died calling for his mother.
June 18, 1915 At Vauxhall Bridge last night, I saw many wounded walking back. They had lost two-thirds of their number and the survivors drank their fallen comrades' share of the rum issue.
June 27, 1915 Now, a few words about the baggage which Gen. Seely [of the Canadian Cavalry Brigade] and his staff carry with them. One fauteuil carries table supplies, cooking utensils, dinner service, wines, champagnes, cigars, fruit and all sorts of delicacies. On the wagon are their kits, mattresses and bed clothing; many coats, changes of clothing, saddlebags, swords and walking sticks, folding bathtubs and boxes of junk which may come in handy. Five officers have 12 body servants and grooms.
July 1, 1915 If I were in Windsor today, we would be taking the good ship Papoose from Bois Blanc and arranging for dinner in Amherst House. After that, "cruise up the walks" for an afternoon's tango and hesitation [a dance step] in the pavilion. Return to Windsor to gorge on pie and a dixie of cocoa. Instead, I am in a stable in a strange country, and we will be lucky to get back for Dominion Day next year, as we are deadlocked on the front with neither side able to advance a yard.
In the estaminet [bistro] in Merriss, some boys entered singing and looking very pleased with themselves. They were conscripts and will serve for a penny a day. They were off to camp before being hurried to those uncovered graves -- the trenches. This is not war at all, but a series of long-distance murders.
July 13, 1915 When the trenches are quiet, time passes as slowly as a jail sentence. Cooped in a hole two or three feet wide, the men pass the time writing (letters short and few are the rule); reading (books are scarce and thumb worn); cards (no more than a couple of hands). It would be a relief to be attacked or even shelled.
July 22, 1915 Canadians who were reviewed by [Prime Minister Robert] Borden received him very coldly and marched back to their billets in silence. As one man put it, "They were tired of hearing the same old bull."
Nov. 16, 1915 St-Omer. This [officers' training] course is rather -- peculiar. One point of the utmost importance is personal appearance. Maj. Willis says the care of fingernails marks an officer and a gentleman! Now, finger inspection is a regular parade and the students have to shove their lunch hooks out for the officer to inspect.
Dec. 5, 1915I became a 2nd Lieutenant with the Sherwood Foresters at midnight, so today I wear an English officer's uniform.
Dec. 14, 1915 London. As soon as I join the new regiment, my pay (about 10 shillings per day) will be put to my credit. The British Army wants its officers to live like officers, and not eat their meals at Beefsteak Tony's, or board at Sloppy Eliza's! All transportation must be first class on railways, but it seems alright to ride in the tube or on buses in town.
Jan. 14, 1916 France. I was greatly amused by A company in their trench. As soon as they were safe from a shell, their heads appeared over the parapet, and they would wait patiently for coming events. When whizzing from the oncoming shell was heard, they would cry "Here she comes" (like fans at a racetrack), and then all heads would duck until the burst was heard when they would immediately bob up again. It is marvellous the number of shells which the enemy wastes to get one of our men, yet they do get them sometimes.
Jan. 22, 1916 All along the line lie dead British soldiers covered with a thin layer of mud. I ran across some seven or eight bodies facing down. Their clothing was almost rotting away as were also the bodies. Many had no heads.
St Patrick's Day, 1916 Duchess of Westminster Hospital, France. You see, it was like this. Going to the trenches, I took the Gunners Walk, of which I have always been suspicious as being a bullet-swept area when we are going in or coming out, and I also have felt that the enemy have discovered our days of relief. About halfway up the trench, which was only waist deep, one of the bullets whizzing overhead stopped on catching sight of me and I felt a smashing blow on the cheek such as a boxer might deliver. My face was covered with blood, and yet no particular part of me seemed more stunned than another. However, as soon as I had got my bearings and allayed all the excitement among the men behind me, I ordered them to go on, with the exception of one man whom I left lying in the trench with instructions to warn all other relieving parties that they were in a danger zone.
Aug. 5, 1916 London. Recruiting goes merrily on. In Trafalgar Square immense crowds gather at the Nelson column while sergeants and officers harangue them from the steps and soldiers pass through the crowd urging men to Come up to the Colours, like a Salvation Army revival where people are pleaded with to come up and be saved. Every once in a while, some civilian who can no longer stand the pressure mounts the steps and accepts the King's shilling while the band plays and exhorters testify: "Join now, boys, and spend a delightful winter in the trenches!"
Sept. 22, 1916 Calais. About noon, we were given instruction in the new gas helmets, run about the grounds, then locked in a chamber with the thickest possible gas, followed by lachrymose gas; then another run with gas helmets on.
POSTSCRIPT
John Patrick Teahan was reported missing in action on Oct. 9, 1916. The Sherwood Foresters' War Diary describes that day's battle:
There was no artillery preparation. In accordance with orders, the Battalion made an attack on the Schwaben Redoubt. The assault was carried out at 4:30 a.m. under cover of darkness. The assaulting waves had not gone more than half the distance across No Man's Land before enemy machine gun and rifle fire was opened. Our casualties were heavy, numbering 13 officers. Other ranks: 26 killed, 134 wounded and 64 missing.
(Some of this material has been previously published in Diary Kid, Oberon Press, 1999. The original diaries reside in the Canadian War Museum, Ottawa.)
Comments
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What's up?
~Romance ♥
romancexxmy, August 17th, 2008 at 02:58:48pm
you seem nice
romance stained red, July 17th, 2008 at 12:09:14pm
yay! you hate bring me the horizon too!
Gaspard, July 8th, 2008 at 04:58:09am
hey whats up
i am alive, June 9th, 2008 at 11:30:28am
hey homie
wats up
Vampire Vanity, May 27th, 2008 at 03:26:32am
I've heard Always Where I Need To Be, and I like that, but I haven't had the chance to listen to the rest of the album.......yet. What's your favorite song from Inside In / Inside Out??
Raiseyourglasshigh;;, April 26th, 2008 at 04:34:29am
You listen to the kooks.....that's just grand. I've never met anybody else who listens to the kooks=)
Raiseyourglasshigh;;, April 13th, 2008 at 04:19:23am
I live in canada west cost 2
were all gonna die, April 1st, 2008 at 12:57:34am
i live in canada too...!
Colorado Sunrise., March 6th, 2008 at 04:34:12am
heyy im julia =]
whatz up?
nice profiilee
xx
xXxJuliaxXx, February 25th, 2008 at 09:38:16pm
thanks for your advice on my disorder =]
the remembered one., February 4th, 2008 at 08:22:22pm
nice profile man.
Jessie., February 4th, 2008 at 04:34:36pm
oh you live in victoria?
hate to be a creep but i live in surrey. (:
soleil vs the dark., January 26th, 2008 at 10:02:38am
hmm you look cool. lets be friends!
:D
disneyland acid trip, January 19th, 2008 at 09:39:35pm
Hi, Lol I Love The *disclaimer* -- Funny U Base-icly Said IM NO HOMO! Lol Im Delaney Btw, Cool Pro, XD
ForgottenxTeenager45, December 27th, 2007 at 10:22:53pm