In the immortal words of Poppy Z Brite (whose books I have not yet read, but have heard incredibly nasty things about), “Some nights are made for torture, or reflection, or the savouring of loneliness”.
I’d have to agree with Poppy for the most part, though rather than savouring loneliness this eve, I’m focusing on a lovely glass of nepenthe and a
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People stopping randomly, not aware of people around them, stopping at the bottom of the escalator and looking around....
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I believe that's the mall where my former mother in law bought the Tiffany knock-offs she gave me as a wedding present. Still have to find a place to sell that shit...
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As for selling the knock offs- ebay honey.
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"Sweat it all out ... With your bedroom eyes and your baby pout."
Work it! Excise those demons of stup... Shetland Pony? Sigh.
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...and bring some crisps would you?
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At one point several people recommended her books to me, so I grabbed a box lot on ebay for cheap. Not good.
Maybe its not my style but I was SO not impressed.
Honestly I only finished one, and tossed the rest to goodwill.
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