Violet Matenapolis

Commentary: Who Do I Have to Blow to Get A Meal Delivered in this...

I would happily pay a delivery charge-hell, I’d even tolerate a long wait time if it meant I didn’t have to put on pants, set down my Manhattan, drag my ass downtown, put out my cigarette, and talk to people. I shouldn’t have to talk to people to eat.

Gish Gallop Poem: The Rats In The Hats

Gish Gallop presents an adult poem written for the child in your heart. A drunk child.

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