I stood in the center of the concert floor. The band had just finished. I was covered in the sticky mess that I had made at the show that night
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"You think I don't appreciate art? You think I don't understand fashion? You think I'm not hip? You think I'm pathetic? A nerd? A lard-ass fat-so? You think I'm shit? Well, you're wrong, 'cause i'm champagne, and you're shit. Until the day you die, you, not me, will always be shit."
It's Christmas Day. I feel like shit. Suprise-suprise. I've called [5] friends all day. Their voice mails click on after two-or-three rings. That means they don't want to talk
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I was driving out to buy a comic book tonight and came behind a Bug with a sticker that read "F The President", it was mocking those stupid "W The President" stickers. I laughed.
To quote the roommate when bitching about a former girlfriend. "[bitch, bitch, bitch]...and she thinks those 'W The President' stickers are cool!"