Pay Them in Dollars, Fuck Their Daughters
And Turn It Into Wonderland

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Mood:
Discontent

In four days, I'm going to be twenty-five.

Weird.

Somewhat sad, too, considering what I've done with my life, but hey, fuck it.

If I make these next few dice rolls, I may actually be employed and driving by week's end.

Or not.

"Buckwheats, b-b-buh-buck-buckwheats, or, no..."


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