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Reply to "Nico"

That must have been after she sprayed her blood from a syringe on the wall of my bathroom upstairs, horrifying my then-roommate, Layle. But I truly thought sangre real!

That apartment above the Pyramid later did a stint as a poetry/performance space in the 1990's, run by the poet Larry Jones, who, when he heard my story, named it "Cafe Nico."
Last edited by hatches
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