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Sir!
This morning I awoke a bit confused. Clothes and writing across numerous disbanded pages peeked my interest. "The sun rose and all mortal men were gone". Why did I write this?
My jug of vodka was 3/4's empty. A spectacle even for my talents. My knuckles resembled raw hamburger and my doors resembled swiss cheese. At least this much made logical sense.
The writing on my cock did not make sense. Magic marker is never that magical. Nor is the idea of writing on oneself in this manner. I assume that the former me thought it would be a funny joke on latter me to do this...in case I was in the option of a woman's company. Fuck you, I thought to myself.
Time to make a run to the store...its probably a better thing that Texas doesn't sell liquor on God's day of rest.
--Management
8:33 PM
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