Hurricane

Hurricane

In real life, of course, we would skip towards the bars on Liberty and, later, First Street, a blur of hands and smokers’ coughs and maybe some orange boogers for good measure. But now I have a room of one’s own and all I can milk from this burgeoning if dead tit is, “Love you, man. Have a good one!”

Please don’t get blown away in a hurricane and please let your next girlfriend at least be ugly.

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