My self-destructive artist friends

I spent some time with my crazy self-destructive friends last night.

You have 4000 crazy people, each of whom gave an average of $175.

They have about $700,000 in a shoebox, and they have been spending it.

And I think they are idiots, but they are idiots with money.

They claim that they will deliver an actual product nine months from now.

I don’t indulge in tobacco much any more, but when I’m dealing with these people, I simply have to smoke. I’m good at smoking as if I’m a stage actor in a performance. Coffeehouses and tea houses are great for that kind of thing, but I don’t feel young and sexy enough to enjoy the play-acting.

I don’t think I can afford to hang out with them very much. I have only one pair of lungs, and tobacco is pricey.


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