last night i went too a brobq in YOKINE, my first time in the beloved suburb. drunk on port. went out, (bikeless) new haircuts for dardys, fk off im dancing!
saw smith, smith donut remember me. i am glad, he is kind of annoying. especcially when he says "well if you love the smiths, youll love me - my _ _ _ _ name is smith! WOWZERS!"
please hit me in the face with a brick? PLEASE!
if a dude donut even know how too make a decision when ordering a burger its all 'see ya!'
(ps) i am not this cool and ruthless in real life, only on the internet. win me over with storys about how you "accidentaly" weed yr pants when you were drunk. the other day. tell me its happened more than once, ill care alot. then we have each others back catalogue, cool.
this morning i was SO tired i woke up and fell asleep again, then i went too the lounge and fell asleep again and then i went too _ _ _ _ _ _'s house and fell asleep on her couch. i was aware of my stomach, it was creepy. i mean, ive always known it exsisted but i was never actually aware of its physical prescence until today. it was WEIRD.
you know how sometimes you do things and at the time yr all "yep, yep this is the only conclusion, yep this is what im doing" and yr nodding and convinced its the ONLY option. an then yr like WTFAMIDOINGNOTLOLWTF well i did that and now my stomach is having an argument with my brain. whoops. im off too make cup o soup with cheddar.
my hero tastes like plastic, hes elastic and now hes dead.
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