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Can't Talk | February 22, 2020

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  • On July 10, 2015

I want to write something coherent and awesome but like, it’s 110F outside and I just found the seventh tiny spider in my office and marriage won and gerrymandering lost but the fucked up death penalty cocktail is still allowed and I dunno. I don’t wanna. I want to eat cold things and lay under a fan and be happy and sad at the same time and also consider that Bernie Sanders probably won’t be president but neither will Donald Trump and we’ll probably get the same bullshit we always get. I want to be okay saying I’m fucking bisexual instead of having to clarify that I’m actually pansexual and in fact I do enjoy all kinds of folk and why do I have to keep explaining this and also like, we bisexuals also benefit from the marriage ruling in all kinds of ways but I don’t want to be shitty and bring down the moment because it is so exciting and so many people have suffered. Etc.

I have hot, ambivalent ennui.

Here are some tweets featuring the bird I accidentally acquired. He’s king of hot ennui:


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