In Stone

If there were anything to stick around here for, there’s not now.

Sign it in stone. Be alone with dear Pinky. I’m out.

Leather Tescadero

P.S. I have the flu, clearly. Hot to cold, cold to hot, gever, cannot breathe to sleep, cannot keep my eyes open. Wish I had peppers. But one can only be a dick so many times.

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