A Novel Experience

Fade in on a nice pale royal blue eye, zoom out on our protagonist, relaxing on a red velvet chaise longue. Kinda frazzled, but not frizzy, brown hair. He sniffs a lot, because his worn out septum keeps giving him grief, he’s unwilling to just give up. Paying Stevie Nicks to blow coke up his ass… wouldn’t that be a sight for sore eyes? These letters are so big. He’s obviously talking to a psychiatrist…

“I think, at heart, I really do, that I’m just a teenage girl. I just want to be wanted, and I want to get teenaged boys off. I want to be the girl I never had in my life, y’know?”

Crack-Cocaine

So some of you may be a-wonderin' "Hey, what's with the new look?"

...and some of you may be wondering as well, "Wait, are you /not/ pushing the militant queer nationalist agenda?" 

I will address the first last and the second first, 

2. If you knew /anything/ about the Militant Queer Nationalist agenda, you wouldn't be asking this question.  It's kinda like being circumcised, once you've entered into the covenant of the Lords chosen people, you can't go back on it.  You carry it with you perpetually.

1. I will buy you crack.  I'm not kidding.  I will buy you crack-cocaine, but /only/ if you smoke it, and while smoking it, you allow me to photograph you doing it.  Maybe you'll also have to let me film it, and maybe I'll add some background music as well.  That's the deal.  Any takers?