Pop Shit

 
Cash me in, color me up, give me my 15 minutes so I can sell them for smokes.
Compared to the fucks I found yesterday, I have been doing an absolutely horrible, quarter-assed job of selling this plog out. I feel like a hooker with a heart of gold on her period—I know there’s [...]

Usually, repeated doses of reality will cure disillusionedness. Unfortunately when that doesn't work the condition isn't fatal.