They don't know longing, because they're too stuck-up to appreciate or maintain a real relationship anyway. They don't know tragedy, because they've pretty much x-ed out any experience or emotion beyond "Girls just wanna have fun" (yes, that goes for the guys, too.) They really don't know anything that's compelling enough to interest anyone else, beyond some idiot blonked out of his or her mind in the club, where the shaking of someone's ass is considered an important enough topic they might - might - consider writing something:
A task they haven't tried since dropping out of school because they were too smart to learn anything.
And now we're the beneficiaries of their collective genius for maintaining amazing abs.
Tragic.
Tragic.
Note to M. Joseph Sheppard:
If it's any consolation, I wish there was a God so there was some chance He could help us,....
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