And so this guy, like, he was in all black cos you had to be? But like his pants with all the safetly pins weren't even the same black as, like, his ripped wumpscut shirt? And like, whatever, so he barely made dress code and still like tried to talk to me? So like, I'm like whatever, guy, dude, go talk to someone who you can see their roots showing, right? But he kept talking to me and like looking at my chest? And like, whatever, I know the rips all like show everything but that's no reason to like stare at my tits, right? So he like gets all, like, "whatever," when I tell him to go try to match his blacks better and he like kissed me!? Like, oh my god he just turned me around and kissed me and then grabbed my purse, the cool one that looks like a coffin, right, and like opens it like he had a right to? And then like oh my god he bent over and puked in it! I am so not even kidding! It was so gross and it was all like taco-bell smell and oh my god like my stuff was all like covered in enchilada puke and it was so gross!! Yeah, but like the next time he was there he apologized and his new Funker Vogt shirt that he tore up matched his pants so like whatever, I'm letting him take me to the Stromkern show. I mean, whatever, it's not even a date but he can buy me drinks and stuff.

I'll probably wear that same dress cos I think I look good in it, right?

Whatever.

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