Friday, December 30, 2005

Sparty, my old friend, you need help.

You are my hated enemy. You and your minions (or are you their minion??) have tormented me lo these last few years. Yes, you've done some horrific things to me. The late night crank calls. The theft of my artwork from my apartment while I slept, my heaving snoring providing the cover for the pounding and scratching during the larceny. The sickening violations of my personal space and hygenic products. Your tortuous spells and potions, which, yes, left me praying for an ambulance at your abode. I do indeed hate you.

Yet, noone can deny we did great things when our interests were aligned. We made the world a safer place. In thinking about those carefree times, I see you now. A tattered shell of what you once were. Booze, crank and European music have taken their toll. The people who surround you now won't tell you. But I will. Sparty, my hated enemy, but once dear friend, you are destroying yourself. Get help. Call your sponsor. Please.

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