So my birthday festivities were everything I had hoped and wanted them to be. Mom, Pop, myself and my baby boo all went to Veselka for some good Ukranian cuisine, and the one and only "coffee yes" waiter who I am obsessed with sang happy birthday to me with a thick Ukranian accent while presenting me a rasberry cheese blintz, he didn't know my name
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seriously.
i'm sitting in a van in portland in the fucking ghetto after playing in a metal club to about 15 people, tops. i dont know if any of them were there for the actual show.
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