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The Lewd Angel

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No time to blog in the past few days but a bunch of stuff happened. I ate a lot of shitty meals. Dined at the hospital cafeteria. Puked a bunch crappy vodka coolers into some guys garbage can. The boys love me when I puke. Seriously. Also Amanda and I made friends with the happiest fish in the world. We also went to this skeezy bar for some karaoke relief. It was full of guys in tiger t shirts, men with spiderweb tatoos on their elbows and merivale rd style gansta's. The gangsta's said I looked like a pizza pocket. Somebody englify that for me. I did some bad things and some good things. I also learnt that you shouldnt judge a guy's taste in music by his tiger t-shirt. When this guy complimented me on my rendition of fever and told me it was one of his favourite songs I didn't so much believe him, but then he killed with a Louis Armstrong duet. There is a lot of stuff I'm not telling you. My fingers smell like nicotine but I havn't smoked. The smell on my fingers is one thing I used to like about smoking tho.

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