the postprandial ire of the sassiest, snazziest deaf gringa with the most awesome, plush tempurpedic heart. it regenerates after each degenerate. zeus cruz sparks my resincore. and, shit, i missed me.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
snake-eyed devotion
here are the few people no one can ever expect to remain my friend after insisting that i reconcile with them:
joe santini
clint woosley
sitting around scratching your head: "why, why, why hasn't she called?"
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