Wednesday, January 2, 2013

One more resolution

I resolve to write something in this space every day even if it stinks worse than ripe excrement. Writers need practice, however unseemly and rancid it may be.

By the way, Taylor Swift, if you are reading this, will you marry me? I think your music is insipid, your lyrics are too stupid to be called puerile, and your singing style is a shoddy rip-off of Suzanne Vega's, but you are fairly hot (ich w├╝rde Sie nicht von der Bettkante weisen allerdings) and, much more importantly, you are filthy rich, and I do need the money.

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