mood:
it's 4/20..that's right...tonight i shall smoke some shitty commercial weed with my useless friends and drink some watered-down Shipyard out of dirty pint glasses at some trashy, mullet-infested hole they call a "bar." lovely, isn't it?
love makes no sense, affection is like a drug.
2001-04-20 11:52 a.m.
delicious?
delicious?