|
Hell yeah I'm wasted as fuuuuckk. I realised this when I spent about 10 minutes trying to fcuking stand up in my living room at home. DAMN YOU TEQUILA/BOURBEN/CIDER/SINGLE MALTS!!!! Jesus, listening to Schlippenbach's 'Monk's Casino' and it's really goddamn fucking with me in my current state. Curse you Monk and yr chromatic awesomeness!!! BAKC TO UNI TMORROW!!! YAYY!!! REJOOIIICEE!!!
__________________
The toothaches got worse, she dreamed of disembodied voices from whose malignance there was no appeal, the soft dusk of mirrors out of which something was about to walk, and empty rooms that waited for her. Your gynaecologist has no test for what she was pregnant with.
|