Taking my Goodwill suit up to the dry cleaners, I walked a total of six blocks. I GOT A BLISTER. Absolutely ridiculous, I'm a tough guy's soul trapped in a wuss' body. (it doesn't compare to marching band days, though, it's just a little one, not a crippling blister colony on both feet). I dreaded what the lazy lady behind the counter would tell me
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bitch, you're not allowed to complain and or whine about marching band. you loved it. don't lie.
...big brother.
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2. Marching band was better than concert band, and it still suuuuuuuuucked.
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