There’s an Applebee’s across the way, and my grandpa always told me never go there. "It's full of tired men, hungry wives and spitting children. There’s grime on the walls and grudge in their hearts. It’s a terrible place with worse bacon," he said. Of course I went there. Of course I did because he told me not to. And when I came out there was blood on my hands and on my shirt, or what was left of it. And so I took a picture of myself, looking like a newborn baby - puffy and bloodied- so that when I told my children never to go there they’d fucking listen.
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Probably tell them not to go, where you really want them to go. Great piece.
Ok
I have to get a little insight into the story but i absolutely get the lesson.