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Just this moment, while writing this, I stopped being an author for a moment and searched Mr. J on my computer. He came up as a registered sex offender in New York and in Florida. He’d been arrested more than once on pedophilia charges. I’m looking at his posted picture now. A ninety-year-old bitter and sick predator, recently deceased. Yikes. Fuck his camping trip.
Acid for the Children: A Memoir
by Flea
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