hey, fenix, congrats on the job you. you've beated the worldwide economic slump. be fucking proud of yourself.
so.
dead air, you fuck, leave the son at the mom and fly to your canadian hottie. unless she is only a mirage but fuck how would you find out if not in person? attack! attack!-- as erase errata would say.
no rilly, rilly rilly. even if it doesn't pan out it's good times. do it for that facts sakes.
oh and DO NOT hang out with the ex or you'll end up fucking her in rhythm and sorrow as bjork would have it. right??? divorces suck hence a clean break is teh win.
this reminds me of the squid and the whale for some reason.
best wishes whatever you're doing-- even if it's just falling asleep before the teevee. no matter what, till victory as patti smith would say.
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