Ever get so sick of yourself you think 'If I don't start doing something new and different there's going to be an Unfortunate Incident at the Kentucky Fried Chicken, with film at 11'? Yeah, me too. If we pass one another on the way to making this terrible mess, let's double-park on Easton Avenue, exit our vehicles and incite onlookers to riot. But with music, so technically it's dancing.
Maybe Poor Impulse Control needs a daily tipline for poorly controlled impulsives, who could ring up and hear wacky thoughts: "Lips do not exfoliate. You must assist them." Who else is going to tell you the ugly cartoon truth?
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