ALSO SWATHE MOTHERFUCKER

It’s a good title, so I’ve saved that much. The rest of the essay I deleted. (Wishing to have it out with my pestering troll, I failed to realize that, though by nature sufficiently mean, I had descended to his level: his mom’s basement — metaphorically speaking — where I found myself tiptoeing on a moldy brown wall-to-wall shag carpet, around empty takeaway cartons and ham radio components. Waaahhhh! Who knows what else one might have come across down there? Ugolino and Ruggieri?)

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