Gross Stuff

Gross

Just as a warning, this section is not for those with weak stomachs. If you're easily nauseated, and might stop reading my journal if I nauseate you, please feel free to return to the entry.


Anyway, the shirt looked like a slug had fucked it. Honestly. You see, I was wiping my nose with it while I was crying, because there was no tissue available. I was also wiping the keyboard off where I dripped. All that stuff dried up pretty shiny, like the trail a slug leaves behind when it crawls on something. Except it wasn't in a trail formation, but in great huge blotches on the lower front of my shirt. Hence, the slug had obviously been fucking the shirt as opposed to crawling on the shirt.


E-Mail Me!


[Back To The Entry]
1