Monday, March 24, 2008

Flaming Hots: There’s one sitting directly under the bus stop bench.

He had no idea that it was there, looking so lonely and dejected. He looks around before he smashes it with his toe. A cigarette butt was hanging out with magenta lip stain. Could he trademark this set of snacks without agency? Agency? We don’t need no stinkin’ agency. I need some agency. I’m sure you could use some too.

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