Abusing the vernacular 58 words at a time

Saturday, October 18, 2008

Owl's Author, or, Is That A Fat Naked Girl On Your Arm Or Are You Just Terrifying?

He grabbed my hand last night. I knew him best for beating a man's face in beyond recognition in the bathroom of my old work.

He grabbed my hand, and said 'we're only friends if you dance with me right now.'

We tore shit up. People may have died. I don't remember. It's all a big blur, sometimes.

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