blegh
My jeans are three (or is it four?) days old.
My t-shirt has three (or is it four?) rents in it.
My forehead's errupted with three (no, it's really four) zits.
Uuuuuuugh. I smell like coffee, wine and ick. Oh, and Philosophy's "Pure Grace."
I cannot live like this.
My t-shirt has three (or is it four?) rents in it.
My forehead's errupted with three (no, it's really four) zits.
Uuuuuuugh. I smell like coffee, wine and ick. Oh, and Philosophy's "Pure Grace."
I cannot live like this.
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