Remember all those soul-deadening jobs where they’d make you wear some stained-up secondhand workshirt that came down to your knees and how hard you’d try to cool up the periphery in case you ran into anybody you knew? I wonder if that’s why punk and goth girls always cram so much shit on their necks and arms.Comments/Enlarge |
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Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa, whoa. Not trying to tell you what you can and can’t do with that face, but maybe you should leave the tricycling through the Red Light district in a raincoat to someone a shade less skeezy. Right now you’re making my ass clench so hard I’m worried my next dump will be glass.Comments/Enlarge |
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