Sick: The Life & Death of Bob Flanagan, Supermasochist
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:35:00
in my dungeon, underneath my house,
:35:03
in the basement with the dead cats.
:35:05
It would have been shaved head,
shaved body,

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living underneath the cellar,
coming out at night

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and cleaning everything.
He would've been thrilled.

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"It was her house
I fell in love with first,

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from the dungeon-like darkness
of its basement to the grungy bathroom,

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the kitchen,
with its mile-high dishes,

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and to top it off,
two spoiled brats for me to wait on,

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chauffeur and pick up after.
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The perfect wicked stepchildren
in my Cinderella fantasy come true.

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Poor Cinderella,
how I pitied and envied her

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and wished that I could be her.
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Before the ball,
and before the fairy godmother

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who ruined everything
with her hocus-pocus

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and 'happily ever after.'
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This is what makes me happy :
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Fantastik, Snuggle, Cheer, Joy, Pledge,
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and all the other
janitorial aphrodisiacs--

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keep up-- that not only clean and shine,
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but also declare my eternal servitude
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and dedication to the one I love.
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But as in all fairy tales,
midnight comes,

:36:07
hard-ons go flaccid
and everything gets dirty again.

:36:11
And this time she says,
'I think I'd rather have a maid.'"


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