Monday, April 19, 2010
Regress #13: Train In Vain
I care not what grim personal or emotional depths you are currently plumbing.
It doesn't matter how soul-crushingly bleak your already rawboned lovemaking prospects have become.
It's of no moment that you find yourself shamefully devoid of skill in your chosen vocation as an erotic mime.
And I won't judge you simply because you spend most of your free hours in the musty crawlspace above your ex-girlfriend's apartment bedroom.
Because despite all of these lamentable human conditions, you're George Timothy Fucking Clooney compared to the bastard love child of Sandy Cohen and Dylan McDermott-looking, cleanse my ears with sulfuric acid sounding, Dark Angel Lucifer-spawned, mortal sin against humanity and all things sacred and holy better known as Train.
Feeling better now?
With Perfect Empathy,