theyll shoot me i dont care theyll shoot me in the back of the neck i dont care down with big brother they always shoot you in the back of the neck i dont care down with big brother--
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Self-love
Bukowski is dead. There’s no one left to slap me around but me.
Bruises tend to heal with ice and salt. Pustules on the ass are the worst.
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