“Rome is burning”, he said, as he poured himself another drink. “Yet here I am, knee-deep in a river of pussy. Here it comes,” she thought, “another self-indulgent, whiskey-soaked diatribe about how fucking great everything was in the past and how all us poor souls born too late to see the Stones at wherever or snort the good coke like they had at studio 54.” Well, we had all just missed out on practically everything worth living for. And the worst part was, she agreed with him. “Here we are,” she thought, “at the edge of the world, the very edge of western civilization, and all of us are so desperate to feel something, anything, that we keep falling into each other and fucking our way towards the end of days.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *