Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Monday, October 13, 2003

Failure of the Day: Fuckity fuckity fuck fuck

I want a fucking cigarette. Closing out fucking day 2, I am fucking begging for fucking death.

Fucking sucks. I am not even fucking functional without a fucking toothpick sticking out of my fucking mouth at all fucking times. It's a fucking pacifier is what it is, except I am not feeling particularly fucking pacified at ALL. A slow fucking torturous death from fucking lung cancer is looking pretty fucking sweet right now, and I'm pretty fucking sure it would fucking go by faster than this fucking shit. And sure, that's a fucked up alternative to Chris, but after a couple of fucking weeks with me like this, what do you want to fucking bet he will start to see its appeal.



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