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Things that don't fit on our T-Shirts (or around their collars)

Old and tardy, his slim shorts are overstuffed. His white shirt is dull as a stain of thin mustard loosened with water and a drop of Diet Pepsi. The buttons of his shirt are hanging, they've clearly gone towards tarnish. "I tink you know, what it is I am say-ink?"
"What I tink for christ! What I tink is that you been an ass. That's what I tink."

"I don't like your shoes either. They have those dribbles, dribbles."

"Preacher, go fuck your cleaner!"

"There'll be more in awhile, they say to me. While I say to them, we're toothless but not too weird. The tacit yet repulsive angel ponders Chicago's front steps while a warm beer drips on his shoes. Petey mutters dogly from his mat by the door. "Am I lying here or what?"
The old priest checks his watch again, "Nope, it's noon already."

"You can't stand on Kant, on lore or bribes in the middle of Asian lady ghost stories.&…

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