Recklessly abandoned cross-fades

The Magic City's been out trolling for lot lizards and the lizard they always want is my silver car. Second parking violation this week. But whatever; Jesse and I had a steadily increasing good time at the Pawn Shop last night and thank goodness it wasn't overstuffed with seeding fucktards like the lines on the sidewalk usually indicate. No. We had good friends around and the joy of Jackie and Caro's birthday to fuel the cirrhosis. Those twins are as sweet as people come. We followed that with a jaunt on down to SoHo to give it the old college try of getting stuck in the sticky Spiderpussy web. Needless to say, I did not come across Flonase, but I did see a couple of dopplegangers -- which led me to believe that maybe Flonase never existed to begin with, but rather, was an amalgam of numerous girls I saw that night. Gestalt. The bum wanted a piece of Jesse's Walgreen's Cuban sandwich. I wanted to keep the VZ hops flowing. Somebody oughtta tell the Magic City's trollers, that the real lot lizards, the ones who swallow paste with a grin, can be found a minute's drive north, past the Lantana toll booth. Oh, and why didn't the Pawn Shop DJ's leave the songs alone to play out their natural lives? To all my friends!