Tuesday, 29 September 2009

Death of Gibbering Man at the Hands of Perturbed Whore

It is a melancholy phenomenon to observe a party ebb away, carnal promises unfulfilled, falling asleep on the floor pre-dawn.
It seems I inspired contempt in certain people. Or was it just my imagination?
Goddamn, son, I need a woman. Aw honey.

The man lay gibbering on the couch.
A perturbed whore materialised.
She killed the man then prepared a chicken sandwich. When his dead lips refused to admit said comestible she ate the goddamn thing herself, the crazy sumbitch that she was. Her reasoning was that she could not pass the sandwich through the dead man's lips and his dead teeth refused to chew anyway. Her defence was accepted and her consumption of the sandwich deemed appropriate.

Self-conscious hipsters arm-wrestled and acted in a willfully neurotic way. They wore woolen hats and were self-effacing. "Aw honey!" they moaned ironically and snickered at each other.

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