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Saturday, January 17, 2004

Since I have become more comfortable with the thought of masturbation, I have no anxious masturbation material to share with you any more. Sorry, y’all. If it helps, just now I imagined myself at a fast food place, offering myself to a nice young clerk with spiky hair and pimples so that I may be sold in one of those Styrofoam cafeteria trays, sealed in the fetal position with plastic wrap.
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