Sadly, the title of this post was not written on my internet connector. Turns out that it was very, very fragile, and is now buried in an electronic grave. Along with broken chargers and smashed headphones
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I've just sat here, since my friends left, listening to music, sat in my Panic hoodie and skinny jeans and I feel remorseful. I've changed so much, and I don't know if it's for better or worse. Until then, I'll keep my head high and drink my whiskey, keep my thoughts monogamous and my feelings hazy.
My friends are so lazy that they got me 20 decks of cigarettes and random pieces of crap from their houses. I received: A spoon 80 cigarettes A bag of crisps A pen A penis Some pubic hair 1200 bells A little man holding a zoot 32 and a half skins A lick on the face.