Walking home around 4PM last fall, I spotted a can in the middle of the sidewalk. Strikingly silver and apparently full, since it wasn’t blown over. No logo, no nutrition facts, no label, only the reflected sun and these words, in shaky black Sharpie: CUM CAN, PLZ DRINK.
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One way to measure the passage of time is to count the number of days since you last had sex. I’ve lost count. I only know it’s
It’s easier and faster to cross into Mexico on foot. Park on
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