Aimee's last day at Loserbirds was this week. She bequeathed most of her decorations to me, making my desk/nest an even more hideously garish pile of shiny trash and shit that lights up.
I know dude, I feel like a fucking baller every time I turn that shit on and am greeted by 20 Tom Hiddlestons playing ping pong/screaming Vreths from Finntroll/naked Peter Steels
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