Freezing fog. Everywhere. It claws at the windows, and hisses at me. "Come outside, Warren." Filthy fucking muck that it is. Like God stood on the moon to piss on England. (Like America wasn't a better target.)
"Come outside, Warren. Come outside and die."
God has hated me ever since I made his girlfriend come.
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The weather is zestfully rimming goat here as well. Time for drinking, fucking, and other acts promoting indifference to the world out-of-doors.
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No, really? I've never heard that before.
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Sarcastic bastard.
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The brilliantly weird (for Nick Cave, at any rate) song "The Ballad Of the Brown Ape" on the new album may give you some clues as to why. Or, then again, it might just confuse you.
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