Long Story; Short Pier.

God, hes left as on aur oun.

Meta.

Locas.

Cui malo?

I know, I know: mocking the intellectually crippled is the jeu du jour of the left-blog elite, but people, really: Dobson and his ilk aren’t the ones comparing the homosexually inclined to dogs that moo; the Gill Foundation is. Sherman’s just pointing up the fatal flaw in Norman’s well-meaning but breathtakingly dim-witted argument: the proper stance in the fight for basic human rights isn’t I can’t help it I was born this way but what the fuck business is it of yours who I spend my life with?

  Textile help

Movement.

The last herd.

Goons.

Gravity.

Walter Rodney.

D'Angelo.

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City of Roses

Chapter Twenty-Nine: “Mass”

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