Life Robotic

At five A.M. there’s nothing to do but put Fried Neck Bones and Some Home Fries (Dan the Automator Remix) on repeat and dream about digging shallow graves for my enemies, beetles and moths swarming the headlights of a junker while last disrespects are given. I don’t care about being caught or D.N.A. evidence, not when I’ve come this far. Cigarette butts and footprints. End of the line.

(A slight tip of the hat to the 1998 black comedy, Very Bad Things.)

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