Wednesday, September 25, 2013


My weekends are generally free of Punk Infection.  Most consist of huge breakfasts (the only point in the week where I eat anything before 12pm), uncontrollable sadness and working on the FTP print zine.

Turns out that I could've just gone to this fuckin' thing and been terminally infected with Flat Tire Punk.

Instead, I remain an enormous failure.

Kudos to anyone who saw this.  Your life is infinitely cooler than mine.

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