Do Not Eat Your Own Head
There’s a strange eerie silence out on the wires tonight. It feels like the hush before Something Big happens – it feels like the brief interregnum of silence between the doctor’s slap on the ass and the first juddery indrawn breath and full-throat wail. It feels like the puff of air that precedes the flash flood. It smells like blood, and piss, and it scares the hell out of me.
Then again, it could just be that slightly elderly spaghetti sauce I had at dinner coming back on me.

Thoughts That, If Not Deep, Are At Least Wide

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  1. I want a scary email to scare my friends

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