30 August 2004


We're thin as a glance from a moving car. You smile, you pretend you're not interested in anything, they want to shag you even more. I don't know why. I only work here. Executives are the worst. Jack Daniels and coke and beating up girls. Shirts that never quite fit. I think I've had every organ in my mouth. You don't need a brain. It's better if you don't have one. In the bitch seat, between two dickheads who keep yelling and throwing beer cans out the window. I tell them I'm getting out. Sudden blood. Quick as a razor.