It's been a long time coming (since the beginning of time to be exact) but Anna recote her 100th poem with that last one. It's been quite the journey: the poems' devolution into creepy, unfit advice; the Capaldi years; the beginning and end of the tagging system as a means of documenting Our Heroine's tastes and adventures; those lean summer months where I roadied for Kiss on their European tour.
To celebrate here's another book cover I found, this time one Anna modelled for.
The titles translates as a quirky inversion of a common phrase which undermines its original meaning.
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