Disintegrating Clone
About Me
Sometimes I wish I hadn't chosen a silly blogging name, but not as much as I regret the rainy season of eighty-nine when, hand in hand with a sultry and tempestuous woman, I instigated a revolution in that blameless third world country. How warped had my judgment become, waylaid as it was by a heady mixture of Marxist dialectic and unstable hormones.
Your people want to make a statue in your honor. What will it be made out of and what victory will it commemorate?
1 Benign indecision. 2 Beating the Neighbours cast until they squeal like piglets. 3 Translating the Girls Aloud canon into Old Church Slavonic
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| Nobody laughs at Mister Fish |
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