Little bro, post-night at Womb.
Morning After
Filed under: Keitai Log
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Dave’s Logs
Only when the last tree has been cut down and the last river has dried up will man realize that reciting red Indian proverbs makes you sound like a fucking muppet.
This unacceptable exposure of myself, and the other me wearing my lovely-even-soaked-together-with-me-in-a-bathtube Stitch suit (I didn’t tried taht yet, but I sure do fantasise about it) entitles me, I hope, with some kind of pecuniary gratification (i.e. percentage on your googleads profits)!
Or at least a follow-up of the innumerable emails of admirers you’ll surely receive.