Finish the exclamation to the inquisition you're imposing.
Late night wondering and longing is never satisfied.
You're across the city and there's no way to reach you.
High heels are a poor choice of footwear on icy terrain.
At least I'm not going bald.
People will talk if you're an asshole or not.
Everybody smoke!
Everything is dead, gray and frigid.
Winter is a bitch and it's not close to being done with us.
It clings to us like your girlfriend and won't let go till the end March.
After the New Year everything goes to shit.
You're starting another year, doing the exact same thing as the last,
in the same city, surrounded by the same assholes as the year before.
But no! This is the year we will quit smoking, loose 15 lbs and pay off our debts.
I'd rather not be so disappointed.
10 old styles.
Teenage Lush..
LSD and ghostbusters 2.
Oven madness.
You're a Genius.
Shell gas station cigarette quest.
youth against fascism!
your mind is propaganda and your face is the billboard.
read a fucking book.
Infomercials, cheese and Conan. I'm glad we both appreciate the finer things in life.
Let's stare at the Fisk in all it's smoking glory.
you are a very talented writer-such cynicism and sarcasm. And you are right --after new years it all goes to shit- the same old shit-rise above it!
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