You grew up, became a man, had to adjust to taking less than you hoped for; you discovered the dream-machine had a big OUT OF ORDER, sign on it. Yum-fuckin-yum. One of them, in a scatter of glass from the broken window, was a crowbar. Sorry, Larry.
They looked to her like liar's eyes. Jonesy could have sworn that what he had taken for a middle-aged potbelly was almost gone. His mindhold. Remember I said there was a response I give to those who ask me why I’m sohigh on Great Expectations,
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