I Ate a Baby on the Bus This Weekend, Kept its Sunhat as a Souvenir, by J.W. Wargo

It's like holding the handle of the spoon that's stirring the pot of boiling water which contains none other than yourself. You convince yourself it's okay. It's just the usual dinner, nothing out of the ordinary. But as you watch yourself crying out as you're boiled alive, you become depressed. You turn away yet continue... Continue Reading →


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