29.6.11

Casual Sex Allowed




We've tried to mend split shins with feathers and gold dust. We've pushed the one-wheeled limousine to the cobblers. We drank pitchers of Shrapnel & Lace in honour of our Father of the Cloven Hoof. Yet remains the outcome of our efforts, the fruit of our prime-time pranks: trauma for all, shrinks.

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