a snow of butterflies : texticity

by Tomorrow's Man

September 01, 2004

Okay, it is official -- there is no détante. There is only war.

I hate shaving, and shaving hates me.

This morning, I attempted the dire act again, as I have repeatedly for so many years, and again my face resulted with a look like I'd taken to it with a jailbird's anti-sodomy shiv.

That does it. I'm going grizzly.

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