My job is sucking the will to live from my nostrils. Which is where we all store our will to live. It's true. I work with books. I know things.Fuck. I'm too tired to be funny. Or coherent. My foot itches.I saw a roach last night and DIDN'T scream like a little girl! I'm really maturing as a human being. I tried to write a story earlier tonight. It ended up sounding like a cross between JEEVES AND WOOSTER, CLERKS, and Raymond Chandler. And not in a good way. Very sad. I fail at life. A mature failure. Like bad old wine.I think it's time for Elle to go to sleep.- LV
Saturday, October 6, 2007
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