Here you are clutching a speed pipe pouting like a toddler telling me you don’t like to be judged.
Blowing meth on my cock wasn’t sexy.
I could give two fucks if you’re undetectable.
The answer is still no.
Talk about sharing a psychosis.
He comes along singing something about children of the spiral.
We both end up clutching each other and crying hysterically.
A mayo packet somehow bursts open.
A girl passes by and says “Eww. Gross.”
You calling me dirty.
Next thing I see you in the personals section of Craigslist.
And while we’re on the subject of Craigslist-my post said seeking trans-not old white men in lingerie.
He tells me to check out his blog.
Something about him being lord of the multiverse.
He then threatens to kill me if I tell anyone.
Someone left their email open.
I buy a Fitbit watch later that day.