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Ever since my boyfriend moved in, I never get to see him.
how the hell does that work? *okay, I know WHY, but it sucks*
I've been working so much, then I have Monday and Tuesday off, and he's going to the station all day Monday and has a job interview on Tuesday and my English teacher would shit bricks if she saw this sentence.
whew!
i don't know what it is, but it seems like every time I'm working I have to bust ass. As in, FART. You know? it's the worst... holding that little blast of toxic gas in for hours on end, when all the while it's trying its damndest to peek it's way out and you do everything in your power to keep it in AND keep a straight face while you're doing it. Then you think, "Oh, hell... no one's around, I'll let just a tiny bit out over in the corner and walk away from it really fast..."
At this point, one of two things happens: 1) You blow ass and seemingly get off scott-free, then someone IMMEDIATELY shows up out of nowhere and walks over into the biohazard Level 5 zone, blowing your big plan... or 2) A "little bit" of your fart turns out to be a LOT bit and you blow an o-ring out, releasing not only a horrible stink that would put a dog fart to shame, but blasting off a noise so loud that you want to whither up and die on the spot rather than have to face any one of the several horrified onlookers.
yeah, it pretty much sucks.
in other news... I'm going to bed! You can fart there all you want, and as long as you keep the covers tightly sealed around your body, you don't even have to smell 'em!
~~this message brought to you by The Foundation for You Know You Do It, Too, So Don't Act Like It's Never Happened To You Before, and the letter "Q"~~
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