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[pwnie]

I just finished one of my numerous Christmas gifts, "Dry," Augusten Burrough's memoir about his fight with addiction, which has left me a bit depressed. Joni Mitchell's "River" on repeat is not helping. Why do movies like Requiem for a Dream and Trainspotting seem to make me want to indulge in a life of wanton destruction? It all seems so glamorous

Comments

Bizzaroland

[anonymous]

Living's good, usually. Why do you plan to inject Botox into your feet?