Up the Hill

Hey Jack. You want to know more about Jill? You want to know what she’s wearing right now? What’s hugging her hips? Well she’s busy, Jack. Incredibly busy. She’s making photocopies of dead animals. Signing her name to uncovered checks. Quite a gal, that Jill. Quite a fucking gal. And I’ll tell you Jack. She seems a little off these days, a little like a architect drawing blueprint after blueprint of the building before its demolition. She’s got this quaint way of telling people to fuck off whenever they bend over the drafting table. And Jack, it isn’t pretty. I’ve seen the things that she’s says to them. That Jill. Always looking for a light. Always asking someone for a smoke when she knows she’s got another pack in her pocket. She doesn’t care Jack. She just doesn’t care. This is where you come in. You see, I think Jill just needs a little understanding. And you’re just the man to give it to her. A little before bed, or when she wakes up. Something to sock her in the eye right before she drives off.

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