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Is this a 9th grader's photo essay of a junkie waiting for a fix, like before cell phones and internet, where people had to lollygag around phone booths...26 dollars in my hand? Jim B, Burg, anyone...wtf?




In a Greg Brady 8mm Thanksgiving movie sorta way, I suppose. It's about as divorced from reality as anything else she's ever produced, even in a luddite context. Maybe she's teamed up with Sherwood Schwartz?