on the run female fuck dogs, chewed off colars, placed on willingly chase the gag reflex obliteration speed at the letting go ness of letting go and being fucked in the alley way anally with 'every guy in the galaxy' and then you leave, mysterioulsly and the story that was going to be written about you disapears, into the tapestry of the night.
you sir, sir, mister, sir... got any films with a young Chris Trotter in them? When he was 23 he started a punk band called ChrisT rotter. No shit
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