Worst. Birthday. Ever.
Yes, it's only 11:05 AM, but so far, today sucks. I've hit the deuce-deuce on this wonderful day, but I got so much bad news today, it doesn't even matter. (Shouldn't there be a law against delivering bad news as a birthday present?)
First, since not one of my asshole co-workers want to cover for me on Friday, I can't go to Camp Bisco. My boss said that if I missed Friday w/o any coverage, I'd be fired. Blowjob. Hearing this, I came as close to crying as I've been in the past 10 years.
Second (and supremely important), my best friend OD'd on Molly last night. He had gotten 2 zips of that slutty Sass, and decided to test it out before slinging it. That worked out well for him. From 6 pm until 4 am he was just dipping and rolling, and then his heart basically stopped. It's scary as shit, because I stopped doing blow because of my heart, and kept on doing Molly once in a blue moon. He asked me to partake last night, but I didn't feel up to it, so I passed. Shit is fucked up. He's fine now...I'm not sure if he's scared straight though...I think only death will stop that kid from chasing his neverending fix.
Thirdy, turning 22 sucks. Every birthday after 21 just means you're getting closer to being old. And being old is not fun. (At least not to me. I happen to think that some older specimens are absolutely divine, but I'm not looking forward to the march toward the AARP)
Yes, it's only 11:05 AM, but so far, today sucks. I've hit the deuce-deuce on this wonderful day, but I got so much bad news today, it doesn't even matter. (Shouldn't there be a law against delivering bad news as a birthday present?)
First, since not one of my asshole co-workers want to cover for me on Friday, I can't go to Camp Bisco. My boss said that if I missed Friday w/o any coverage, I'd be fired. Blowjob. Hearing this, I came as close to crying as I've been in the past 10 years.
Second (and supremely important), my best friend OD'd on Molly last night. He had gotten 2 zips of that slutty Sass, and decided to test it out before slinging it. That worked out well for him. From 6 pm until 4 am he was just dipping and rolling, and then his heart basically stopped. It's scary as shit, because I stopped doing blow because of my heart, and kept on doing Molly once in a blue moon. He asked me to partake last night, but I didn't feel up to it, so I passed. Shit is fucked up. He's fine now...I'm not sure if he's scared straight though...I think only death will stop that kid from chasing his neverending fix.
Thirdy, turning 22 sucks. Every birthday after 21 just means you're getting closer to being old. And being old is not fun. (At least not to me. I happen to think that some older specimens are absolutely divine, but I'm not looking forward to the march toward the AARP)
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But then again, my birthday is five months away and I'll be older still.
I'm terrible at cheering people up.
But I'm trying.