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The Newest New Yorker

pull up a chair, throw a little existential brit pop on the stereo and grab a box o' tissues…because sisterhoneychildfriend....my bidness be draMATical.

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

My boss just said Dante’s 7th level of hell is reserved for whoring developers.

*edit: I am NOT a developer!

email me! you know you wanna: heydreamergirl@yahoo.com

Posted by The Newest New Yorker at 11:21 AM

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