> return to concert, tell wife there was a line for the bathroom
> Apologise to wife for terrible evening and buy her flowers
That'll make her forget about that "murdering her son" thing
>make sure theyre reeeaaally pretty flowers
> Vomit an entire plastic horse in front of Balsac and wife
> Tell wife "I was saving our son. He is cured of his affliction now. Let us have Balsac accompany us back to the motel.", then drive with them to a motel.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
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