Okay, I get the fact that your ex-boyfriend died more than six months ago, and everyone grieves differently—but really, honey, the big jug of red wine you gulp down nightly, plus the handfuls of Vicodin you use as a chaser should make you feel “great,” not “depressed.”
I think you love this manmade depression you have invented, but the two friends you have left don’t. Also, wash your hair (the Jesus look is so 1996) and brush those “black teeth.” And clean the wine glass you have been using.
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It’s time to shape up or “close up shop.” Enough said.
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