oh my god. you had a literal albatross. that's too cool. samuel taylor coleridge would be SO jealous. he had to make up his harbinger of bad tidings, but yours attacked you at the vet's office while henry snickered behind his tiny yellow beard.
cool.
not so cool, however, is the meth lab. did your neighbors by any chance win the lottery lately? it's my theory that white trash isn't enough anymore...you literally have to be a meth addict to win the lottery. and then, what you do? you make meth! it's like angel investors knocked on your door and gave you the tools to start your home business! (and you didn't shoot them with the gun you keep next to your bed to ward off the paranoia! what luck!)
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cool.
not so cool, however, is the meth lab. did your neighbors by any chance win the lottery lately? it's my theory that white trash isn't enough anymore...you literally have to be a meth addict to win the lottery. and then, what you do? you make meth! it's like angel investors knocked on your door and gave you the tools to start your home business! (and you didn't shoot them with the gun you keep next to your bed to ward off the paranoia! what luck!)
anyway...
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And Henry never snickered! He cowered. He hates birds, cats, and balloons.
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I can not believe you were hit by a bird of prey. Also, I can't believe the great big VAG picture your friend posted on your MySpace. Hello, NSFW!
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