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twenty-fourth, sept the fly that lived in my roomate's room and the fly that lived in my own must've been a boy and a girl. they must've met, their stars must've aligned. cause when we got home this afternoon, there were fucking 50 fly kids - no kidding - partying in a dirty black swarm. at first we despaired, but then we turned up iron maiden really loud and proceeded, with newspaper and fabreeze, until their corpses littered the carpet and window panes. but they just keep flying in my hair, the pissed off brothers and sisters of the dead...i can't stop the blood. |