Last night, I filled in doing someone elses job. In the process I stared into the moist eyes of America and they were blank, slick black gleam of a dead sort of nothing; it is worse than I thought. Fact: Imperviousness is a privilege right at 14-24. I racked up 100 reasons never to leave the house again. Sick shit America listing at #1.
All I imagined over and over was blackout drunk boys and slackened faced long blondes waking up and clumbsily peeling off each other, gingerly adhesed by booze sweat, by the hundred-dozen.