Maybe you didn't say any of that, but I DID! Maybe you don't really hate me, but you have no reason to respect me. I don't even respect myself. And that's the truth. Maybe I am just completely fucked up. But I don't need any professional help or any of that crap; I should just manage myself. I guess it's kind of weird being just over-the-edge enough to do some of the stuff I have been known to do, but just sane enough to realize I am doing it. I don't know what to make of my own existence. **tries to tear out my own hair only to realize I have no hair to tear out...then PUDDMANN reaches for my upper lip** Allright, Mr. PUDD. That's it. NOBODY MESSES WITH THE 'STACHE. OK, I really need a Dr. Pepper or something...
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Miss Sarajevo's Blue Room

I'm having a wonderful time but I'd rather be whistling in the dark.