I’ll admit it: I’m an attention whore.
I mean, not nearly so much as
Mofo is. Or
Pretty Boy Slim. Or
Panhandler Ingenuity, although he just always needs some kind of constant praise and stuff really. And then there’s
The Slut. I don’t even think I need to go there, do I? Well, go there again if you get my drift. And by that I mean she’s a slut. And I’ve done her lots. But actually she’s not so much of a whore, cause she doesn’t charge you and stuff. She just kinda expects you to do something for her first or after. Which really I guess does kinda make her… look what you guys went and made me do. I got completely off the me bein’ a attention whore moral of this story or whatever the hell I was going for.
To reliterate, I like attention. Well, good attention that is. Not the “Have you seen this man? Because he’s wanted for questioning.”-type attention you might get from the cops. But again, I regress.
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