I had G'N'F'N'R 4 commentary reservoirdogs

art chudabala, single parent, drama, adventure, reservoirdogs, list of proverbs, art, doris, sean daley, kenneth utt, gift set, guy torry, bisexual, list of films, prose, tony danza, tony kaye, mark wahlberg, television, tony blair, giovani, david steinberg, middleeast, 1976, Oh yeah. 7 · Posted by mb on March 25, 2004 02:43 PM Dude, that is a lot of baggage. Funny when we remember how important it was NOT to have a weird bag! Or case, as the case may be. 8 · Posted by commentary momo commentary on March 26, 2004 04:59 AM commentary Well, it seemed to be bloody Country Road bags amongst the girls in my latter days of high school. Us men were just happy with ordinary backpacks or sports bags. 9 · Posted by Graham on March 26, 2004 01:33 PM YES!!! YES!!!! YES!!!! Oh my god, I was not the only one. Oh, it all rings so clear to me. I too, had a brown plastic case. Called a port, by my conservative South Australian mother, who resented the fact that she had to move with her precious two little girls to the dreadful wilderness of country NSW, so she was determined to take it out on us, by trying to morph us into little versions of her - comlete with school yard trauma and everything. Unfortunately, in my case, it wasn't just the horrible port that made me a social outcast.
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I had G'N'F'N'R 4 EVA emblazoned on it, along with band names like Bon Jovi. I also had reservoirdogs a perm. I'm so ashamed. 5 · Posted by Caz on March 25, 2004 06:34 AM Oh god, I had the same slogans on MY backpack! (Which was not trendy canvas, rather a cheap green plastic weave, but nevertheless able to be scrawled on with stolen whiteboard markers.) Aahh. Thems was the days. 6 · Posted by Monkey on March 25, 2004 10:29 AM I did reservoirdogs not own jeans until I was eleven. Until then it was stirrup pants and a reservoirdogs permanent. And I can't even blame this on my mother. I thought I was the height of fashion. Add this to my unfortunate propensity for vomiting in church (had to attend three days a week with the whole school, boyee), and the fact that I knew words the other kids still have not dreamed of, and my trauma level extends beyond the mark.
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