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This is not a documentary. It is not intended to reach out to you. It is a story about a good conversationalist. There will be no explanation as to why he is a good conversationalist in the end.
They don’t want my beauty at the book store. I lied about everything. “Why do you want to work in a bookstore?” Per say. The image came out at best, beauty and the books stuffed in her nylons and her trachea. Not a breath passing through without paper. John Gray. “Pretend that I came up to you and I want to know where to find John Gray,” she said and I said next to Grisholm. Well that really swung her neck into a pecking techtonic gesture and her fingers, like little shears, like manhandling for shears, snippity like that she says the John Gray wrote Men are from Mars, “Women are from Venus,” I help. “Oh, the doctor,” I say. It didn’t come out as doctor, though, more Dr. I didn’t want the job after that. I went over to my moms house and moved some things from the office into my old room. We took the bed apart, I got sleepy so I went into my younger sister’s bedroom to sleep. It got me thinking how generous I had been. I had been generous to the bookstore, and had gotten high hopes about finding a job. I realized that a lot of people get away with interviewing and working at book stores. One specific example is the lady that interviewed me not even twenty minutes earlier. She was unfit and disorganized. A hazard in the body of a gentlecreature. A baby killer AND a protagonist. I fell asleep and had a dream that my old furniture was back in the old room.
Transcribed from the .swf file.
by why the lucky stiff