i'll spoil your party with my punky sneer

Dear Edwyn Collins,

Last night was horrible. Trust me, you�d rather I didn�t get into it. The only thing I�ll say is that I have no idea where all that hair came from upon inspecting what used to be the floor underneath my bed. And don�t get me started on the dead roaches. It shivers me timbers.

But that�s neither here nor there. I�ve been listening to all of my old Orange Juice CDs today at work and I think I�m finally secure enough in my sexuality to admit that I love you.

You are the light.

�Til my dying day,
Fu-Fu

August 2, 2001 | 11:11 a.m.

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