my adidas shirt stinks. all the time. through no fault of mine, mind you.
wash it, wash it again, wash it some more. and, like the uninvited ex who’s still infatuated with you and insists on gate crashing your wedding despite the numerous threats of court restraining orders, the stupid stink keeps coming back for more.
have i vented enough spleen? probably not, but that should do.
the work beckons.
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