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	<title>Utata Front PageUtata Front Page</title>
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	<description>Utata: Tribal Photography</description>
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		<link>https://www.utata.org/frontpage/2012/05/18/1723/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 18 May 2012 14:20:58 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Blog by: Rachel Irving | Photo by: aikithereska</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[<img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7075/7219435174_e2779df1a1_m.jpg"/><br/>I&#8217;m gonna haunt you. I decided just now, when I was trying to read my magazine and you&#8230; what was it the first thing? Keys, yeah keys. You were all &#8220;Where&#8217;s my keys, someone&#8217;s moved my keys.&#8221;And they were right there on the table, where you&#8217;d left them. Then it was your baseball cap &#8220;I can&#8217;t [&#8230;]]]></description>
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<![CDATA[<img src="http://farm8.static.flickr.com/7075/7219435174_e2779df1a1_m.jpg"/><br/><p>I&#8217;m gonna haunt you.</p>
<p>I decided just now, when I was trying to read my magazine and you&#8230; what was it the first thing? Keys, yeah keys. You were all &#8220;Where&#8217;s my keys, someone&#8217;s moved my keys.&#8221;And they were right there on the table, where you&#8217;d left them.</p>
<p>Then it was your baseball cap &#8220;I can&#8217;t find my cap. Who moved my cap? Where&#8217;s my cap gone?&#8221;. And you know what .Cap was where it always is, by the front door, just exactly where you left it.</p>
<p>It&#8217;s all the time. The very moment I sit down to rest my legs. You&#8217;re like a little child who can&#8217;t find his favorite bit of lego. So I am going to haunt you.</p>
<p>I&#8217;ll come back from the grave, and you know what I&#8217;m going to do. I&#8217;ll hide your keys in the garbage can. No don&#8217;t you start laughing at me, I&#8217;m serious. I&#8217;ll take your cap and I&#8217;ll put it in the salad box in the fridge. Hell you&#8217;ll never find it there. You won&#8217;t be laughing when you&#8217;ve got no pants because I&#8217;ve hidden them all in the oven. The best part is, you&#8217;ll tell Sally and David about this conversation, you&#8217;ll say &#8220;This is your mother, doing all this madness to me. It&#8217;s because I never let her have a moment&#8217;s peace to just sit, and rest, and read her magazine.&#8221; They&#8217;ll look at you and think &#8220;Poor old Daddy, he&#8217;s completely barking mad, how did mother ever cope with him?&#8221;.</p>
<p>Oh and you know that beer you were looking for earlier. I drank it already.</p>
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