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If I kiss you where it’s sore If I kiss you where it’s sore Will you feel better, better, better Will you feel anything at all Will you feel better, better, better Will you feel anything at all Born like sisters to this world If I kiss you where it’s sore You’re getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder
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A little notice to all the people out there who have told me that they're reading but don't have an LJ: I have had security issues and have made a new journal. If you would like the new addresse please email me and I will get the addresse to you. I apologise for this movement. It is frustrating me as well. |
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Ni neng deng wo ma? Qing ni deng yi deng. Duibuqi... Qing xiaoxin yidan. Wo ai ni. =3 Brush up on your Chinese as well mate. |
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Thanksgiving Day, Nov. 28, 1986 William S. Burroughs For John Dillinger Thanks for the wild turkey and the Passenger Pigeons, destined to be shit out through wholesome American guts — thanks for a Continent to despoil and poison — thanks for Indians to provide a modicum of challenge and danger — thanks for vast herds of bison to kill and skin, leaving the carcass to rot — thanks for bounties on wolves and coyotes — thanks for the AMERICAN DREAM to vulgarize and falsify until the bare lies shine through — thanks for the KKK, for nigger-killing lawmen feeling their notches, for decent church-going women with their mean, pinched, bitter, evil faces — thanks for "Kill a Queer for Christ" stickers — thanks for laboratory AIDS — thanks for Prohibition and the War Against Drugs — thanks for a country where nobody is allowed to mind his own business — thanks for a nation of finks — yes, thanks for all the memories... all right, let's see your arms... you always were a headache and you always were a bore — thanks for the last and greatest betrayal of the last and greatest of human dreams. |
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