Friday, May 21, 2010

Pop tart




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1 comment:

  1. Boy. IzZAT well titled. I suppose it was necessary to refine these screamlegs within an inch of one's most abject humiliation? I figured; no sense in underdoing it.

    An' annutherthing, now that he looms into view so viscerally from the margin: that sneakered lad on the steps in the dark blue sweatpants is not, repeat not, playing fair, either.

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