Shit son, this is ACTUALLY me.
Bukowski and Burroughs would turn in their graves to see how watered down and devalued the vitriolic written rant is these days. Kerouac and Ginsberg would heave at the lack of punch in structure. It’s a sad time for us all when people seemingly go away to slaughter a language that is perfect as is. I admit to being guilty of it but I, in my vehement defence, am awesome.
Amen, sister. Amen.
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