Abby Robitaille reevaluates brevity.
I live a flannel-clad, bed-headed, whiskey-drunk, kickflip-bruised twenty-something sort of existence in Burlington, Vermont. Sometimes I write about it.
All content not otherwise credited is copyright Abby Robitaille 2012.
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GET AT ME
“It’s not like I’m all, Hey, Peter Pufferfish, what’s up? and he’s all, Yo, nothing much, brah.”
