It’s almost New Year’s Eve, some fuckers have been blowing up their rockets the whole evening (synchronize your fucking watches), and I can’t get to sleep early enough – where’s Unicum when you need it. Listening to a whole plethora of heavy fucking music as loud as you can get, drinking beer and wine, searching for oblivion, coma of some sort. Someone, please, sell me a life. Death would do, too.
Anyways, do well. People.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
Friday, December 02, 2005
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Homeward bound
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