Sunday, March 15, 2015


Crunchy plantains had been fried up in an aeronautical space vat till they were crispy good with perfection and zen subtlety. I bit into it and could feel my very DNA changing. It was a superfood, I was now a superman. But with these powers would come grave responsibility. I walked out of the restaurant and clobbered a bag snatcher. I stared up at the full moon.

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