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Scrawl on the Wall 023
Neon, how optimistic and tacky, I miss you Neon.
Neon, you were once the dude. With your colorful promises of pink and blue in retro-styled fonts and a hint of rebellion.
Then there was black light, the shining promise of music, drugs, and illusion - all joined together in a psychedelic mushroom poster featuring Bob Marley and the Smurfs.
Where did we go wrong?
When did society go back to track lighting and sensible shoes?
I want to be addicted to heroin, and smack, and bad relationships.
That's reality. That's the cutting edge. That's syphilis baby!
I think I want to be like Casanova, with silk clothes and silk bed sheets and multiple lovers, and eventual facial deformities due to body ravaging STDs. I mean, live fast, stick around, and leave a corpse that looks like it's been places.
The beautiful people are beautiful because they avoid direct sunlight, eat lettuce, and bathe in E45.
It's just too damned sensible and boring.
I want someone who can only wake up in the morning after drinking three Red Bull and Whiskies, eats 2 chocolate doughnuts for breakfast, and then calls in sick and watches cheap, low bit rate pornography on a horribly obsolete laptop with a cheap LCD screen.
Is that too much to ask for?
I just want to fuck an ugly chick for Christ sake.
I'm not asking for much here.
Just a fucking hand-job from someone only slightly repulsive.
They don't even have to stop smoking.
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