it started last night, 4 in the morning, a voice filtering over the mechanical foam, soaking up the flourescent lights, oozing apetite... "can i take your order?" this was the night i discovered the "supreme croissant" breakfast sandwich. cheese, ham, bacon, egg and a fold of grease sandwiched in flaky coissant: served twenty four hours. [fast. cheap. easy. brilliant.] how americanesque.
before returning to jack...
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why are you my friend? i was combing through flux's [the adorable rocka-billy girl's] entry page and couldn't help notice your quiet sarcasm running riot. if it's a bother just let me know i can acquit you darling.
and for the chap who uses the word 'lovely': not even close to the resemblence of a midget.
but yes the boxers were atrocious, and the wearer of them left in the middle of the night for his move to california. le sigh... typical, oh so typical.