"promoters" poems
It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour,
the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes.
The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention.
Here it was common
The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local and national, even internstional.
What's uncommon was the bold prints
of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining
The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills.
A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai,
Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil?
His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed
Still never ever seen or heard of his manners
Anywhere than in these motley banners
Just as a function
at the Tannery road junction
Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking protracted ruminance what do this expensive banners really mean?
In another occasion
the glaring glorifying picture
of ARUMALAI followed the tag
Corporator,
Below the man posing a DICTATOR.
That was a period to a period of mystery!
Banners changed with seasons
with greetings on religious occasions
Festivals of importance
Birthdays of men even
with crowded profiles of hailers
Whose unrully manners
Too clogging up the banners
Like a wanted list of jailors.
One day a strange banner
hooked by the Tannery cross over
Spooked and shocked every passer-by
There the usual banner cut out
the larger than life image blings-out
Arumalai the BBMB corporator
Posing as dictator!
There was no wish of any kind.
It was a notice startling any mind
The sad demise of ARUMALAI
The BBMB corporator
Still possed as dectator
By his living promoters.
"He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation.
He was administered
the necessary treatment.
Was referred to a super-speciality
centre and was declared dead.
His sad demise was advertised, he was forty.
His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary
in major news papers...
What was the reason for the minor surgery
What're the preparations
for the corporator's operation
All are mystery for a causal itinerary
passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction, wondering at the strange envountering with banners
that come and go
Keeping no annals
Floating on the mind for a while
Stopping at the red's knell,
Moving with the green signal
The rise and fall of heroes
As binary one and zero
The banners tell a story tertiary
Of the rise and fall of a luninary
Within a plane ofmomentary
Variation of red and green
On the Tannery road's screen.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
*Let SPAM reign supreme
Same as all mediocrities
Hello Poetry*
*Let lame egos win
Peacocks, fops, vacuous thoughts
Hello Poetry*
*Let psychopaths shine
Make all the peacocks *******
Satan ruling hell*
*Hello Poetry
Tireless self promoters
Hoarders of nothing*
*Let the clueless gawk
At the boneyard of Peacocks
Feather blatherings*
*Hello Poetry
******* all life out of it
Allowing lame writers*
*Wolf Spirit blows hard
Clueless rube awful Pontiff
Hello Poetry*
*Stars shining in void
If ever there was lameness
Hello Poetry*
Aug 13, 2015
Aug 13, 2015 at 9:05 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
I am loved by the one who made me,
Loved unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive, that shows up in the cracks,
Of your well beaten paths.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
For failing to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
In its flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free,
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
I am loved by the one who made me,
Loved unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive, that shows up in the cracks,
Of your well beaten paths.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
For failing to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free,
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
I am the **** in your pristine garden,
Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias,
Unwanted, I lift my head high,
Invasive, pervasive, you hate me.
You spray me with emotional roundup.
You wish I would simply go away
Crushed under your foot yesterday,
I wilted under your hate.
Resurrected by the creators love,
In joy I dance to his music,
That floats on the wind.
I am a rose of Sharon,
Planted firmly in the dirt.
Hated by you for just being,
The one who made me loves me,
He loves me unconditionally.
Planted in the wilderness,
Where he walks in search
Of those who seek his name.
If you see me know that, he is near.
Yet you hate me for being the ****
Invasive that shows up in the cracks,
Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred.
You stomp on me, mangled I lie still.
Revived by my God who loves me.
Someday he will do justice,
Someday he will show them mercy,
Them that failed to love his creation.
He animates me an earthen vessel,
With emotions triggered by fluid actions,
His loving smile, His tender touch,
In his love and goodness, I find joy.
The joy that effuses and rises to my brain,
Like a flooding sea of contentment,
Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm.
From your bitterness, that floods my feet,
He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits.
Freely I give the love I receive,
As fragrance it wafts on the breeze,
Used to the smell of death and dying,
The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints.
They revive him with curing leather from the tannery.
Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance,
Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light,
Someday those that cry for war will love peace,
Someday those that hate others learn to love.
Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony,
Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies.
And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness,
Love the beauty of God's creation.
Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free?
Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
I need to assume most people are stupid
enough to believe within minutes of
big names releasing videos anywhere
people are sitting at computer waiting
for music that ***** and give them
millions of views in minutes.
Don't you love how Youtube sits back
and lets it all happen?
I too could have a viral video with tens
of millions of views if I had cash to pay
promoters to add views.
I too could have a number one song if
I could afford to buy people addicted to
apps cards for exchange of my songs.
Great to be rich and get richer knowing
people are dumb enough to believe
getting famous ain't like it was years ago.
All you need is money to buy you downloads
and tens of millions of views to get a viral video.
Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 5:37 AM UTC
Soppy is the way,
Ladle on the sentiment,
If that swill doesn't work,
Just cheat with phoney names,
You too can be so popular on HP
Yet the mirror still looks on with disdain.
Note: rather than craft, study, honing, using elements of actual poetry ( metre, alliteration, image nor even metaphor ) the 'Tireless Self Promoters Club' simply want to start at the top? Phoney? Lazy? No cliché beneath them? Pathetic?
All signs point to YES!
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 12:17 PM UTC
*Egos loving each
Slithering sound a snake makes
Weirdos on HP*
*Rather than write well
Tireless self promoters
Rig game for themselves*
Jun 29, 2015
Jun 29, 2015 at 12:17 AM UTC
(
•
)
~~~ ^^^ ~~~
TROLL : ( one who tries to control the narrative and bend it toward some desired end ---- destructive for the naive reader / most often used to describe implanted government operatives )
••
VULTURES :
Feeding off youthful innocence and uncertainty
••
Most of the poets here seem to be TROLLS
//
The debasement of youth sexuality is no accident !
••
The image of STALKING the ****** object
In order to capture them and control their emotions
And to deny them their FREEDOM
THIS IS A PURPOSEFUL PLAN
To weaken the nation by driving its children
Into confusion
To turn the sexes against each other
To destroy all future families
And all possibilities of a united front
Against the fraud and criminality of our
Poisonous leaders !
THIS IS NO ACCIDENT!
These are not poets !
These are TROLLS !
•
Read them carefully
Their techniques are subliminal
But become obvious
•
Oh
They SOUND like they are kids too !
•
They SOUND like they are HURT
BROKEN
etc
But underlying it all is
HURRY HURRY DO IT
HURRY HURRY
BE LIKE US !
SO ADULT LIKE
IN OUR EXPERIENCE !
( TROLLS ! )
////
They teach that if you OPEN YOURSELVES
( note the violent imagery )
Allows you the status of VICTIM
allows you the option of VIOLENT REVENGE
•
And in a way reminiscent of our adult torture culture
With threats of DISMEMBERMENT
CASTRATION
Etc
Not only for the LOVED ONE (sic )
But for FAMILY and FRIENDS !
/////
And all this described as a NATURAL COMPONENT
OF LOVE !!
••
TROLLS !!
//://
Here to destroy you
To destroy the nation's Youth
to forever make you unable
to truly love at all !
//
TROLLS !
Promoters of EVIL !
Agents of Alien Entities !
Disguised amongst us as poets !
/:/
To rip you up and spit you out as good as dead
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 2:11 PM UTC
Wannabe novelist,
Slumming it slathering rhymes,
Awful prose and verse.
Oct 14, 2012
Oct 14, 2012 at 9:25 PM UTC
The dollar will teach custom promoters and wireless handsfree. It is the theme of life: the first in the world of women who change climate change. Have a good interview. My life is the rights and reforms, religion and people, Hamilton. People Now is a sign. My program to work? This is not true for the Council. Money, money, drink, drink, drink. I want a new life in a group. Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings, Weddings | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Mother and wife go to Europe, gold, water, yellow, silicon, amino-amino. Power in the Jordan, Jordan, Asia, Iran and power. Weather in Russia. Robert's reflects the beauty of London. Nigeria has decided to complete the new leadership in Nigeria. My son, great and great, mother and dream of my dreams. Immediately, you will receive an email and return to your room. Peter, Peter and the two with without the release, Tiger Seeger Hill. And in the opposite case. Is this illegal? || | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | Light of the bright lighting of the ground floor-a wall-bearing wall that gives birth to a full-fledged gun that gives the bride the most reliable and reliable wife in the middle in the north. The keys: the brooms **** the dead killed without exit but the specified out took a bit of venison the grass cream lost the lost lost idea of a new man who spoke to the head of the head of Queen Andes. Lu hair combing yarn Samsung broom bite in the hands of the colors of the illuminated light shiny paradise full painting burning farther tidy family Satanic ugly money witch plastic century an earthly base city children eating ***** insurance police gypsy in Sodom's fire religion taking lead ****** rehabilitation relocates The north-east scenery of the winter dance that is in the background of girls' feelings feels the new head of the world that has been fulfilled in the fact that the artists who have the highest degree of degradation skills at first Big wind in the wind blows furry live hold bar talk smart to green is a favorite one you like that angry demon with kisses.
Nov 8, 2018
Nov 8, 2018 at 8:01 PM UTC
Dull public speakers,
Everyone is prisoner . . .
. . . Jailor loves yawning.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 2:24 AM UTC
*Must be exhausting
Tireless self promoters
Spewing their drivel*
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC
the chickens we eat
are laced with growth promoters
fruit and vegetables
in cold storage
are gassed
not to forget
our
beef
pork
mutton
and fish
they've had an enhancement or two
this makes for a toxic brew
which we eat all the year through
the organic ways
of producing food
has gone by the wayside
and we the consumers of food
have been taken on a ride
the scientific fraternity
make discoveries
everyday
and when it comes to the subject of food
they've a lot of enlightening
things to say
chemicals
fertilizers
drugs and all
they are causing the consumer
to question if it is safe
to stow in their mouths
what is served on the plate
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:02 PM UTC
The love story:
Starring us, as the actors of romance and passion.
Produced by:
Us, as the promoters of this production.
Directed by:
Myself, as it concerns the affection I feel for you.
We met in probably the strangest of ways.
But there must be a reason to why?
Whatever it was?
It seem to have been a blessing because, we have created a love story.
Like various people in society.
We build and lay our foundation according to us.
We make loving the center of our love.
I'm your sword and shield and your protector.
And you're the object of my eyes forever.
In this love story starring us.
We both determine the out come of our love story.
Like life, it's what you make it?
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
Tamworth is the Country Music Capital
which is located in the state of New South Wales
and in the month of January
all of its streets fill with musical tales
Mr Kenny Rogers that American great
shall be featuring
he'll be singing ballads for the crowds
who of him are so adoring
those Nashville record producers
could find lots of talent down under
it is recommended they hop aboard a jet
to check out our Aussie thunder
this festival of twanging guitars
and fine singers must be seen
so we're inviting all devotees to gather
with us for an eyeballing glean
in January the city of Tamworth
plays open house for a fortnight
all comers will heartily enjoy
the atmosphere of its tonal light
Keith Urban twas unearthed
by those in the recording industry
stetson wearing promoters caught onto
his bankable brand of country
Dec 25, 2014
Dec 25, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC
*Must be exhausting
Tireless self promoters
Spewing their drivel*
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 11:21 PM UTC
Oh, Faleeha
How brilliant is your future
I whisper in my ear
And pat my shoulder
Every morning
I open my day with a big lie
I tell myself
Faleeha
leave the news to the promoters of rumors
And the houses being bombed by skilled pilots
They will be rebuilt immediately afterward
Leave Iraqi women to be sold in the Sbaya Bazaar in Mosul
Mothers will give birth to other daughters nine months later
Don’t worry about the man who sells his life for a handful of coins under the sweltering sun
One day he will be able to get a Chinese umbrella
Don’t worry about your niece whose face now being eaten by skin cancer
She will get through Photoshop a wonderful picture for her profile on Facebook
Why do you look so long at picture of your friend who is missing from Kuwait war?
He is lucky
He survived the darkness of grave
Oh, Faleeha
Leave the children of Baghdad to wake up to violent explosions
Music is no longer fit for their mornings
Write down the martyrs names on a piece of a paper and place it in your old coat and leave it in the closet
Or send it to the dry cleaners
I’m tired of counting the names of the martyrs and the war never ends
Faleeha
Don’t plan for the future
It is as a close as a sniper’s bullet
Yes,
I open my day with a big
Big
Big lie
But no lie can cover the scary truth
Sep 17, 2019
Sep 17, 2019 at 6:34 PM UTC
I want to help you . . .
Sad, loser self promoters,
. . . Rock bottom is home.
Mar 22, 2014
Mar 22, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC
The Race That Stops A Nation is an exaggeration promoters love to trumpet out - but it’s imagination. ©
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 6:44 PM UTC
Let the light shine through the window and embrace your eyes with a gentle surprise,
As they come to you in your time of need,
They are the light the ones in white,
Lest we forget that in which life is based upon the caressing of time,
Days go by where you look for an answer,
Yet just wait they might see that it be dealt,
Just keep your head to the sky and watch as it cries for you,
Tears of joy rolling down eternities cheeks as it stops time for a long deserved second,
We now remember why we were here,
As the promoters of the glory of life upon the bountiful spectrum of Mortality.
Jul 12, 2012
Jul 12, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC