They're exactly the same. In their heads they're exactly the same. They are really only the same size. They say "Look at us, we're the same size we understand each other". The size they are is not uncommon and it is not beautiful. Everyone who has a TV understands that size, you two aren't on the same team, anyone can tell you that. I would tell you that but I'm not allowed to. My breath stinks, it smells like: fire, vinegar, piss, venge, revenge, avenge. Eyes turn from baby boy blue to jungle poison snake green. Emerald City man behind the curtains green. Industrial Jealousy. I'm not gonna measure you. I'm saying quantities of the same stupid doesn't make a book it and it doesn't make a song, or a movie, or a picture. It makes a distraction mostly.
And your dumb fat friend with the fake tan is jus driving me up the wall. I feel bad for her, she's like a dog you trained to humiliate itself. You call out a command the poor bitch pisses on the kitchen floor and stares up at you starving. Gosh everyone's so scared of you it's a wonder you have any friends at all, your dumb new documentary-- she sits there nodding bleached crimped hair. You feed her cheap wine and you feed her cheap butter and bread and ask her "Do we look like we're the same?" Dumb fat idiod girl sucking her bottom row of teeth. I know she can't measure but in the dim light of every weeknight 9-12 yeah I guess the beige turns into a blue and you two really seem a lot alike. Whatever, your poor friend I feel bad for I'm bored.

I'm not bored, actually, I'm famished.

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