It's the night of my twenty-fifth birthday and I'm alone, I think to myself as I slump on the couch smoking the thirtyth cigrette of the day. I was late for work and got ripped by my boss, and my car is toast. happy fuckin birthday. I sit there channel surfing, thinking about taking a bath and drinking the last of my tequila rose, when the phone rings. I grab it on the third ring, Hi, whats up? I answer. Hey, baby, get ready I'll be there in twenty minutes and pack a bag for the weekend It's my man...
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