I has a job.
I hates it.
I am now officially a grown-up.
I hates it.
Everyone should come see me at the Shell across from Oneonta High School.
I feel like I’m working for the man, being at a gas station, but I apparently I don’t mine whoring myself out as long as I’m getting paid regularly.
I give away free coffee all the time so I can feel better about
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I can haz grammar?
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