mf·vf = mp·vp One day, when you are 87 and surrounded by your crying grandchildren as you are strapped in the electric chair, you will be allowed one last breath after your last step after your last meal after your last dream. As you look into their famished eyes, you will slowly inhale, and with all the life left in your being shout "RIFLE RECOIL" as the electricity jolts through your lungs. And they will know exactly what you mean. http://www.myspace.com/riflerecoil

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