day-so-long: delt with a handful of breeders bringing their spawn into the bar, dogsitting, tourists, 4 mediocre jam bands, 3 virgin CHUNCH motherfuckers, a gaggle of hair-farmers, a mix of therapy sessions & one fowl smelling crawler. 16 hours later... I'm ready for the hottest shower I can get. Let's hope my roommate dug his body hair outta the drain.
It's easy to slip into being sad if it's comfortable to you. Like an old warm but itchy sweater. But anything worth doing or changing is always difficult at first. Some of the best times are started by forcing yourself into them. Anyways, this has been a PSA by me, sad clown, in the midst of a large-scale period of self improvement.
I don’t like shit, I don’t go outside.
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