It's been a strange day for me. Vladimir Putin is eating lunch downstairs right now, and Secret Service men are all over the place. They set up a tent so that the car could drop him off and he could enter the building without being seen. They've closed the entire block to traffic. He's an untouchable, the furthest from a homeless nobody. Why is his life more valuable than the beaten homeless woman's? If anything, he's done more harm to the world than she ever will. It'd be nice to run into the bastard with an orange scarf on.
It's a full moon on Saturday, and it's starting to feel like it.
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