What do we want? Just us! Who do we want it for? Sows!

[lordmemnon]

A man stands on a soapbox in the street screaming at the top of his lungs. Spittle forms at the corners of his mouth; his eyes are rolled back in his head. A small group of pseudo-anarcho onlookers point and stare, their lips parting in a way reminiscent of dying trout

Comments

[tmpk]

You are weird. But I love you for it.