This is the fucking stake out, girl. We sit here. Sunglasses at night. Street-lamp light caressing out lenses. A satisfaction of pedafetish. One journey-quester’s dream. Smoking pot in the parking lot of that sci-fi convention. Like they gave a fuck. Like that was pot. Like spice with dust on the chris. Shots. Two more. WANDA down to venture. Plunder the ACCALMIE. Tour-guide ENIR DA will ensue:
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