ORD_Buckeye
Wrong glass, Sir.
Fuck it. That's all I have to say. Once again, the motherless bell ringers are out on the sidewalk beneath my bedroom winow hooping and hollering at 7:30 in the morning while I'm trying to have a normal American Sunday and sleep off my hangover. And it'll go on for hours beginning with the wheelchairs through to the elites all the way to the stragglers trying to meet a corporate challenge. I fuckin' hate Chicago marathon.
Nothing against the runners, but I'd rather watch paint dry.
Nothing against the runners, but I'd rather watch paint dry.
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