My New Friend, Cancer

There’s an old Who song (but then, aren’t they all?) wherein Mr. Townshend wonders how many friends has he really got. If you want to find out the answer to this question in your own tiny life, get cancer. Any type will do, really, but just make sure it’s of the documented and doctor-approved variety….

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Nice, Fat, and Ugly

I’m tire of bodies. They break. They decay. They squirt unpleasant substances. You have to feed them, and if you feed them too much they get all gross and nasty to look at. You’re supposed to exercise them, too, and if you don’t they get all tired and flaccid, and if you exercise them too…

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