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dilute some insulin;
then stage your death so
you never do time.
Stay out of doorways or
tragic-ironically
find yourself sewer-bound
like Harry Lime.
The Third Man is playing on the big screen tonight at the AFI and I can't go. Boo hoo. Also, all I do is make promises, so here are some more: Within the week, expect a review of Sweeney Todd, the latest installment of The Triple Crowners series and a "still life" rumination on one of the funniest, sweetest performances in one of the funniest, sweetest holiday movies.
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