bye


But What About Me?"But what about me?" I asked aloud, but not to his face, and the words sped out into the universe, to join a myriad other "But what about me's" uttered by a myriad other women, abandoned every day by their lovers. Women in Korea, Buenos Aries, Stockholm, Detroit, Dubai and Tashkent, but not in China, where it is a punishable offense. Sound waves do not die out. They travel forever and ever. All our sentences are immortal. Our useless bleatings circle the earth for enternity.But What About Me?
dancing girl

FateA sunny day in the park. There is a single bench CENTRE stage. GOD is sitting on the LEFT side of the bench. He has long, white hair and a long, white beard, and is wearing a simple white robe. He is reading a newspaper. Enter PETER from the RIGHT. He is wearing black pants, leather shoes, a white shirt and a garish, comical tie. He is carrying a paper bag. PETER sits on the bench next to GOD, setting his bag next to him. He folds his hands and admires the weather.Fate
PETER. Beautiful weather today. GOD [focusing on his newspaper]. Mm-hm. PETER. [Extending his hand] The name’s Peter.
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Thank you DA. I understand now.
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Honey, why don't you tell the kids to go outside and P-L-A-Y so we can fuck.
you need to pimp this thing out.
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xo
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