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August 26, 2009
Justin pretends to fix the wheels of his skateboard several feet from the liquor store. It's not difficult for even the dimmest of casual passersby to realize he's waiting for someone to go inside to buy him something, anything, it doesn't matter what, even those crappy Mudslide things would do. Finally, a shaggy guy with a long nose in an ankle-length black leather coat/cape thing saunter-limps toward the door. Justin tries to make eye contact, but the guy's dark glasses make it impossible.

"Dude," he says, hoping he's accomplished the cool, offhand tone he'd been practicing all day.

Continued 8/27