still sick, still bruised. who the fuck did i catch this from? some indie-skank probably sneezed in my shirley temple at the echo on thursday. this is some bullshit - i am SO TIRED of soup and daytime television. at least now i can leave my house for more than fifteen minutes without wanting to fall over. i'd like to think of that as progress but it's really almost like praising your 27-year-old son for not smoking weed in the living room, i.e. it's no big deal and kind of sad.
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