You know what's worse? Being programmed by society to want to make expressive gestures on VD, and not having a target to aim those gestures at. The frustration just roils about in your guts and combines with all your other worries and anxieties, and next thing you know you're lying on the floor of your bedroom with an empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Black and a headache that says, "goddamn, son, you just got trashed."
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