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Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Pickles and Livers

Dear James,

Sometimes when twelve minutes turns into twenty minutes I start to panic, start to think you'll never show.

I've always been afraid of cars.

And the young black Moody student started crying when Leonard the hair stylist stroked his biceps.

Its a shame. Molds harden so quickly this time of year.

James, you were my first. Then we moved.

Sorry I never called,
Skin and Toast

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