the jackson pollock lovestory

perhaps they wandered on and perhaps i followed them down quiet alleys where women were giving blowjobs in little brick nooks. and every nook is pretty much the same. so perhaps i followed them, glowing strange eyes and watching them talk enchantingly and i could put a few things in but i wont oh i wont it's much more enjoyable to listen on and on to rabiid banter on things they only half-know about and love the hell out of it. i said love th ehll out of it and damn, where's jackson pollock when you need him?

2003-08-11 | 4:10 p.m.
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