dirtyfilthy
In the grim future of 2009, there is only war.

Marquis Of Queensberry

Posted on Wed Aug 08 22:23:00 UTC 2007

Tonight, I figured I would just get drunk, confess everything, say what I meant, speak the way I felt. It seemed like a good idea. At the time. I would get drunk. I could perform inadvisable actions, but you know. These things happen. These things are worth it.

Maybe.

Hey. Will. William Howard. Can I ask you a personal question? Do you like her as much as I like her? Do you give a shit, really? Does she drive you crazy? Does she do to you the things she does to me?

Hey. Lucy. Can I ask you a personal question? Do you feel he feel the way I feel about you? Does he talk to you the way I talk to you? Find you as beautiful, as intoxicating, as curious and interesting as I do?

All I ask is that you answer me honestly.

- - -

Ninety four dollars at the bar. Ninety four dollars it cost me to say this.

- - -

Still, even after ninety four dollar, the fact remains: YOU'RE A FUCKING PUSSY WILL.

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