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"nsa" poems
battling demons or suffering PTSD with ADHD and OCD on TCH looking for LSD – need a little TLC from the FDA the EPA just went MIA and the UN blames the FBI while the CIA and the NSA seek the PLO – brb LOL, IDK the shizzle is cray cray ****** be trippin er’ry day like Ross say “don’t **** wit me” – the USA in betrothed to the NRA and OSHA just gave me a passing score at the same time as the AMA failed my blood stylistically, this is MLA and functionally it’s more WWE TNT CNN t’n’a --
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Jul 17, 2014
Jul 17, 2014 at 6:00 PM UTC
acronym attack
I stopped calling      stopped texting              unfriended you on Facebook (LOL-not even my account....I don't have one) today We've been friends for more than half my life      more than friends from time to time (FWB....BFF....NSA.....OMFG!)             and now it's like neither of us exists Because you had to lie      you had to hold out....lead me on           to cover your *** for doing something I repeatedly told you to do *** So painfully slowly I'm erasing you       deleting you            turning my mind off you (IMY  :-(  XO) TTFN
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Nov 8, 2013
Nov 8, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
You can't be in my club anymore (second revision)
Many people get the wrong idea as to what certain abbreviations stand for, so I'll clear it up for you. Nintendo DS: Nintendo Derek Sanderson NES: Neely Esposito Sanderson WC: Wayne Cashman 3D: 3 Docders SOS: Help PE: Phil Esposito ER: Erwin Rommel SD Card: Sanderson, Derek Card RC Car: Rodney Crowell Car GPS: Girls' Phrases **** BRB: Bring Reagan Back TTYL: Ta Ta You Loser BC: Bourque Cashman TYMDPMFGMTITMTP: Thank You MrDrProffessor Murly For Giving Me The Idea To Make This Poem NSA: 'Nuff Said Already
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 10:08 AM UTC
Abbreviations
If I were your old flames Would both legs and your heart fall open now? You disregard me. So of heat and foreign bodies I'll take your words for gold And be cut loose On the run I go Lariat still worn of course In ill hope you come around But I hope They wreck me Before you do
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Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 1:29 PM UTC
NSA LSD
The letter puzzle. You find these days you have a puzzle if you need help. You have the FBI, CIA, NSA, HHS, DEA. You have DSS NAACP NBA NFL NBA NHL If you don't have a book to see what each one stands for. You're *******
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Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
the letter puzzle
1 Well, I've dated a few guys, sure - you know, being Ms Hyphen I'm sociable, like to bring people together that sort of thing So I dated that guy Exclamation Mark and what the hell, he was shouting all the time! He's just too excitable, not my type Sure, Comma was more sedate but a little too slow for me, you know So I gave guys like Inverted Commas and Parenthesis a try - but hell, they were always trying to frame me So I like said to myself, maybe I'll try someone else from the Mark family, and woooh! - this guy was like questioning me all through dinner and I was like thinking to myself: *What's with this guy? Where does he work? At the NSA or FBI or what?* I guess you know who I'm talking about Well, I dated all the other guys too like Semi-Colon and then Colon but you know, one liked to separate; and the other was always out with his smartphone listing things I said 2 So I nearly gave up dating when I thought - *Hey what about Dash? That's a dashing fellow surely and he seems to be just like me* (except he is - as is apt for a guy - long) but he was just like Semi-Colon - always separating people You got to bring people together in this world, you know; that's what this world needs Yes, I dated Full Stop too but he was always getting me to stop and besides, he said his alias was Period - now that freaked me out, you know *Hey, what kind of guy walks around with a name like Period?* I'll tell you like who's the worst guy to date, OK - that's Apostrophe: O listen darling, was he ever so possessive! 3 Well, I'll give my dating career a break - maybe come next year, I might try dating 2nd of February
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 6:34 AM UTC
Ms Hyphen's dates
1 Well, I've dated a few guys, sure - you know, being Ms Hyphen I'm sociable, like to bring people together that sort of thing So I dated that guy Exclamation Mark and what the hell, he was shouting all the time! He's just too excitable, not my type Sure, Comma was more sedate but a little too slow for me, you know So I gave guys like Inverted Commas and Parenthesis a try - but hell, they were always trying to frame me So I like said to myself, maybe I'll try someone else from the Mark family, and woooh! - this guy was like questioning me all through dinner and I was like thinking to myself: *What's with this guy? Where does he work? At the NSA or FBI or what?* I guess you know who I'm talking about Well, I dated all the other guys too like Semi-Colon and then Colon but you know, one liked to separate; and the other was always out with his smartphone listing things I said 2 So I nearly gave up dating when I thought - *Hey what about Dash? That's a dashing fellow surely and he seems to be just like me* (except he is - as is apt for a guy - long) but he was just like Semi-Colon - always separating people You got to bring people together in this world, you know; that's what this world needs Yes, I dated Full Stop too but he was always getting me to stop and besides, he said his alias was Period - now that freaked me out, you know *Hey, what kind of guy walks around with a name like Period?* I'll tell you like who's the worst guy to date, OK - that's Apostrophe: O listen darling, was he ever so possessive! 3 Well, I'll give my dating career a break - maybe come next year, I might try dating 2nd of February
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49
| Cubism brought the omniscient narrator into the visual arts & | traveling far enough from the center of the universe makes the universe seem actually     tiny & finally, imperceptible, all that is time-travel, god & ordinary life: is relativity, the math of the diameter; quantum mechanics, that of the circumference | the Russian avant-garde of the 'teens & 20's applied these principles to typography to serve the supposedly omniscient Soviet State; | an early cold war project of the NSA was to fund the arts as propaganda | 1950's & early 60's America saw unbridled expressions of mass, individual, artistic & intellectual creativity: facilitated in large part by the invention of LSD by the CIA | so far the greatest mind of recent times has been essentially a disembodied brain; RIP Stephen Hawking | the future points to our brain being salvageable from the polluted mess of the body; | Under Gretchen Carlson Miss America is to be judged on brains alone | _That's Avante-Garde, *****
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Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 8:45 PM UTC
golden mean vs. scales
What’s so funny? I was remembering an Army Barracks day. A day before Boot Camp graduation We get our first set of official orders. Assignments posted on bulletin board. Striking me now so hilarious; How the dumbest among us, Got picked for Intelligence Corps. Amusing the thought that Thugs with lowest class standing All seemed G-2 bound. Jesus, the anchorman, got Fort Meade, Considered The Bigs by talent scouts. Although I was 6 foot-one, In this or that corner Weighing in at one hundred & 95 pounds, My Yerkes scores too high for NSA duty. They sent me to college instead, Doing COINTELPRO field Campus surveillance of Jewish intellectuals, John Birchers and Radical, anti-Castro, Cuban exiles. The University of Miami, Known as “Suntan U” back then. Miami: the eye of the storm in 1972. A Republican Convention in progress. New wine in old wineskins; No thing to write home about.
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Jun 26, 2014
Jun 26, 2014 at 1:17 PM UTC
“BOOT CAMP”
standing in line for mail at the homeless shelter downtown get a stamp…or two? letters that fill her hand she’s writing to the FBI writing to the CIA the DEA perhaps the NSA wonder what she wrote? some days she tells of shadow people who plot and scheme she hides from ghosts and their attacks they track her she hides inside a dream or more accurately, constant nightmare. she talks to people in the air rambled words furtive glances she listens what are the words that are being said but then who cares no one knows those words just Crazy Mary.
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Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 6:52 PM UTC
Crazy Mary
When I'm with my baby I know I'll always have a job She keeps my life so busy I'm never nodding off Occupational hazard Is what my baby breeds I feel like Merle...always Haggard If you know what I mean Some days she is a walk in space Guess that makes me an Astronaut Other days a Florist As I arrange her Forget Me Nots I've even been a Farmer When she leaves me standing out in left field Also working in the Dairy As she cries over spilt milk This girls is definitely a workout So add Body Builder to my resume And some of the things I've found out I'd put the NSA to shame Don't forget Taxi Driver As she runs me all over town Also Professional Mover With my heart continually moving South I've become a top notch Surgeon The times that my hearts removed And a teacher of higher education When each lesson learned is new Yes, when I'm with my baby I know I'll always have a job As she keeps my life so busy No way am I nodding off
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Jan 23, 2014
Jan 23, 2014 at 7:49 AM UTC
With My Baby...I'll Always Have A job
loading more guys... loading more guys... loading more guys... loading more guys... headless torsos only no fems under 150 only white skin only sorry not racist likes lonely walks not holding hands in public 'cause that's **** NSA only please loading more guys... loading more guys... loading more guys... loading more guys...
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May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 9:30 PM UTC
MASC
1. He created obamacare 2. He is letting in a the ******* illegals and put them on welfare 3. His wife 4. Obamas ugly *** dog 5. He is always spying on us with the NSA 6. He hates the NRA 7. He doesn't like heavy metal 8. Is against the constitution 9. His wife is against KFC 10. Thinks ethanol is actually good I could go on forever but i dont want to bore you
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 10:50 PM UTC
WHY I HATE OBAMA
I am French and Coloradonian. I strongly dislike the color orange. Purple is better. I love vanilla ice cream. I don't like chocolate flavored anything. It tastes weird to me. I haven't watched TV in nearly five years. I haven't gone a day without music. I am married to my guitar. Her name is Nora. My best friend is Monty the Dog. He is a dog. I am attracted to women. I am a ****** to men. I think red heads are ******* hot. I like the number 50. Facebook is evil. The NSA watches you. I used ****** for six months. I snorted ******* for a few months as well. I smoke *** currently. I smoke cigarettes currently. If I had to give up everything, and could only keep one thing... ...I'd keep coffee. I love Coffee. My sister Chelsea tried to **** me. ***** I am random, and can't keep on one subject for too long. Ooh! Shiny things! Poetry has kept me on this road for years. I once wrote a song about pizza. It's probably my best song. I don't like pizza. I used to have long hair, but it tried to strangle me in my sleep, so I killed it. For some stupid reason, my mother named me Abigail Hollow. (last name excluded) Why would she do that? I don't know. I still have a razor flip phone. All the rage, years ago. I haven't slept on a bed in four years. I order McDonalds food for Monty the Dog. He's the only one who eats it... The only girl I ever truly loved died of cancer. My mom wants me to come home. I don't believe in God, but I love everybody just the same. Except Steve Buscemi. He scares me. What do you think of me so far, my lovely fellow poets?
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Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
About Hollow
I am French and Coloradonian. I strongly dislike the color orange. Purple is better. I love vanilla ice cream. I don't like chocolate flavored anything. It tastes weird to me. I haven't watched TV in nearly five years. I haven't gone a day without music. I am married to my guitar. Her name is Nora. My best friend is Monty the Dog. He is a dog. I am attracted to women. I am a ****** to men. I think red heads are ******* hot. I like the number 50. Facebook is evil. The NSA watches you. I used ****** for six months. I snorted ******* for a few months as well. I smoke *** currently. I smoke cigarettes currently. If I had to give up everything, and could only keep one thing... ...I'd keep coffee. I love Coffee. My sister Chelsea tried to **** me. ***** I am random, and can't keep on one subject for too long. Ooh! Shiny things! Poetry has kept me on this road for years. I once wrote a song about pizza. It's probably my best song. I don't like pizza. I used to have long hair, but it tried to strangle me in my sleep, so I killed it. For some stupid reason, my mother named me Abigail Hollow. (last name excluded) Why would she do that? I don't know. I still have a razor flip phone. All the rage, years ago. I haven't slept on a bed in four years. I order McDonalds food for Monty the Dog. He's the only one who eats it... The only girl I ever truly loved died of cancer. My mom wants me to come home. I don't believe in God, but I love everybody just the same. Except Steve Buscemi. He scares me. What do you think of me so far, my lovely fellow poets?
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Browsing, surfing, clicking From inane, to insane, to profane Running down a rabbit hole That rewires every brain Stumbling, bumbling, tripping Into troll caves and lucid irrelevance “Welcome to the interwebz, I’ll be your guide!” Cries the three toed unicorn elephant Museum of human ignorance Vortex of time and creativity At least Pre-NSA We had some anonymity Wellspring of inspiration But don’t trade watching for doing The internet gives and takes from us And there’s a high price for using Such worthless brilliance Human biology isn’t ready To start slurping up This endless virtual piece of spaghetti Grant virtual power to the people So we virtually feel free While you track and categorize every click And quantify our humanity I’m not asking to cut down the tree But dead branches need trimming I’m not asking to drain the reservoir But stop sinking, start swimming I’m not asking to cut the cord Just intermittent unplugging Don’t unload the gun Just don’t aim at your forehead
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Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 9:45 AM UTC
A Thankful Poetic Rage (about the internet)
As the rain is drumming against the pavement I hurdle over The clenched arms Of couples kissing before class Whispering into each other's mouths "I'll miss you" Please keep your pants on You'll see each other in one hour Assistant principal Pushing people to class Sweeping halls Like the NSA Sweeping Sarah Palins email Swerving around students stalling In the center of the hall Screen shooting Their recently opened snapchats Bulldozing my way through High school cliques Huddled around that cute boys locker I finally make it to physical science And I'm wondering If god passed physical science
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Nov 2, 2013
Nov 2, 2013 at 8:37 AM UTC
Running to Class Late
sheesh Eliot, half the poets miffed at your unintended deriding, but sexism in poetry a knife made from a man's rib dividing, again? too cruel to contemplate for defending perhaps the site hijacked by the NSA, doing the bidding of ten old white men? as recompense go to thy server, code in an alternating name starting today, ShePo somehow springs to mind Mother's Day an excellent commencement to begin our regendering P. S. everybody knows I am a girl, right? It occurs to me, perhaps not everybody aware of the inside joke, the e-joke, Nat is short for Natalie
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May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 9:50 AM UTC
Jeez! HePo? Elliot!
If only, if only I could think of one line. I would write anything. Carroll-ing, in Wonderland, ring, bing, ting, ting, but in actuality, that is the sands of time “Passing Me By” – like the Pharcyde, far side. Anything, I would write. Insects, parasites, diseases. God forbid if I wrote about Jesus. I need something to quill that I cannot resist, I will, believe this. I take the keyboard swiftly... but the key is, I’m bored; mind keeps shifting. Write anything – I would. True Yoda –isms, Star wars, chores, ignorance galore; I’m bored Of uncovering the ills of NSA’s PRISM. ****** I want to travel! A world to explore And unravel; out there are words to score. Would I Write Anything? I’ll just sit here Like the man on the marble slab. Blank screens, White walls, smoke green and sip all the beer. It’s weird, I’ll sit here and it hits me sometime. If only, if only I could think of one line.
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
Writer's Block Part Deux
To the top you gotta go far Shortcuts only lead to cut short Couple drops to the bottom I left the local bar Another day another night fire burns like a torch I know the thrill is a sport To many wrong turns on the wrong path and I'm in court Plus the ref ***** ***** rigged now its got me all outta sorts Can't quit a mission James never hit abort Bonds when i swing White when I sing, a young lion like Barry wit a 40 on the porch I don't give a **** about a thing Stressing over every little thing Really just wanna spread my wings **** being cliche **** playing safe each day you can't live free this way So it's my way or you can hit the traffic on the freeway See my vibes a cool breeze wit a lil Hayes Soul man wit a shaft that'll make em say **** the DEA and the CCA Perfect GPA, so shawtys high grade Give her protein to build the muscles in the brain ...9 lives but I leave the ***** slain Mastering this lion in a cage that's untamed Thought I was insane til I learned bout chi **** meditating to get free See we're all the same but all unique I've been in a daze for 9 months and weeks Smacking myself to see if I'm asleep The NSA surveilling all the sheep Stand your ground law but what about peace Eric Snowden was just the slightest breach Gotta do this to heal the soul i dont preach
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May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 6:18 PM UTC
Whose Wrong and Whose Right
Across the purple mountain majesties, flowing fields, and amber waves of grain. The eagle flaunts wings of liberty, she is focused, gazing without refrain. Even intrusive when one is snowed in, the eagle watches and "protects" us all, but the masses refuse to be smitten. The once omnipresent eye exists galled. Indecision, haunting the eagle's eye whilst law favors liberty's wing - A moot adjourns amongst her eye and our disguise. Expanding wisdom laments her eye - left shrewd. But now, why at all be concerned? Now, the eye's chances fall under one-third.
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Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 1:43 AM UTC
NSA Captures Data on Third of Phone Calls
I wonder what it would be like to rid the world of digital chat lines. I think it's time we deleted IM. Yes, I admit it's convenient and fast and easy and cheap but It pays a much higher price. Think about a life with no edited conversatios In real life, you said what you could without having to think about it. Even if it was embarrassing. Even if it was stupid. Hell, even if it was a little creepy. I think it's cute when people stumble and trip over things they've said. Have you seen a boy blush when he accidentally blurts out her likes you? Its the best thing... the imperfection of people. There will be no backspace, no second shot No record for the NSA to use for future blackmail. Won't you be more careful of the words you say then? Won;t you be more kind? Won't you choose words more carefully? Won't you shed your veils and shine?
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
John and Jane Doe chatted, but left much unsaid.
3-19-2014 I feel torn again. The sky has been a consistent white, the white of dull, sad, desolate winter, for three straight days I can’t help wonder if someone, somewhere, is collecting data on social networking sites and analyzing moods based off what is being posted. If weather changes moods and weather is a subject of conversation, surely someone with the access would find a pattern interesting? Anthropological-technology studies must be popular somewhere. I’m sure someone could be focusing on weather, moods, and who is affected, especially if the HARP conspiracy is accurate and weather modification is possible. Besides that, and the prospect of our environment and climate being controlled as well as the NSA keeping a close watch on us, I have been thinking a lot about my place in the world and what I want to do. Do I want to go to school? If so, I’d need to save up to move out, then begin saving in general, and essentially tie myself to pointless jobs for the next several years. Do I want to make a difference? How could I, unless I was to reject all social conventions and mores decided by the capitalistic corporotacracy in which we live? Do I have the courage to be radical? What would I sacrifice in deciding to be, and deciding not to be?
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Sep 6, 2014
Sep 6, 2014 at 7:07 AM UTC
After college woes
I can't stand myself. I'm scared that if I let myself think, I'll spiral so far down that I'll never come back up for air. I don't want to be crazy. I don't. I don't want visions from God. I don't want to see the cameras, check the locked door six more times, shake when the tires veer too close to the curb. I don't want to scream every time I see my reflection blink. I don't want to see my reflection blink. How do I convince myself that I still have time to build a life worth living when I lose myself every day in my delusions? Will I one day stop returning to reality? Will I still have time to build a life worth living if I don't? Do I live in the rot, let it consume me and wait to forget, or do I make something of myself, just to lose it the next time I have an episode? I lose hours talking to myself. I lose myself in the hours in between. And I'm terrified to lose everything. I religiously keep receipts and old packaging, mementos of every average Tuesday evening, because what if what if what if? What if I reach thirty and do not remember being twenty two? What if this is all I have to remember that I had a life before I lost it? What if I don't reach thirty and this collection of memories is the only thing left of me? Does a person's potential die when their mind begins to lie, or when they begin to believe it? I don't know if I have psychotic episodes anymore. It's more like episodes of lucidity to break up my average day of hiding from the NSA or my landlord or my neighbor or the ghosts or the devil or God or my mother or myself. Will I ever be a real person? If I build a life worth living, will I have my mind long enough to settle into it? I look to the future and there's a fog I can't quite see through. I'm afraid when I get there, that the past will look the same.
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Oct 27, 2023
Oct 27, 2023 at 6:12 PM UTC
on psychosis
I can't stand myself. I'm scared that if I let myself think, I'll spiral so far down that I'll never come back up for air. I don't want to be crazy. I don't. I don't want visions from God. I don't want to see the cameras, check the locked door six more times, shake when the tires veer too close to the curb. I don't want to scream every time I see my reflection blink. I don't want to see my reflection blink. How do I convince myself that I still have time to build a life worth living when I lose myself every day in my delusions? Will I one day stop returning to reality? Will I still have time to build a life worth living if I don't? Do I live in the rot, let it consume me and wait to forget, or do I make something of myself, just to lose it the next time I have an episode? I lose hours talking to myself. I lose myself in the hours in between. And I'm terrified to lose everything. I religiously keep receipts and old packaging, mementos of every average Tuesday evening, because what if what if what if? What if I reach thirty and do not remember being twenty two? What if this is all I have to remember that I had a life before I lost it? What if I don't reach thirty and this collection of memories is the only thing left of me? Does a person's potential die when their mind begins to lie, or when they begin to believe it? I don't know if I have psychotic episodes anymore. It's more like episodes of lucidity to break up my average day of hiding from the NSA or my landlord or my neighbor or the ghosts or the devil or God or my mother or myself. Will I ever be a real person? If I build a life worth living, will I have my mind long enough to settle into it? I look to the future and there's a fog I can't quite see through. I'm afraid when I get there, that the past will look the same.
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1
Everything else for me ends here and now... I have found the way, and I have discovered how. Exactly what I will say, and hope you all realize the time is now. We must unite to take back what is ours. We must work for the greater good. We must DEMAND a fair and beautiful nation. Where no one is judged on beliefs about creation, Where no one can tell us we have to do this. Where no one is born into less than livable conditions the government lets persist. WHERE NO ONE IS HATED FOR THEIR RACE. Where no one can stand to hate while looking love in the face. WHERE NO ONE IS BETTER THAN THE POOREST MAN, JUST BECAUSE THEY HAVE MORE WEALTH IN THEIR HANDS. I AM BEGGING THE WORLD TO SEE ME. I just want us all to be set free
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Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 1:15 PM UTC
I Hope The NSA Reads This.