sitting sataring out the sliding glass door, with a half burned bong hit, and a glaze over my face. slackjawed. about to cough again.
i'm in my favorite jeans, and one of my most broken in t shirts, and i just bought a fresh pack of parliament lights, and i have the rockenist rockstar hair south of hermosa beach pier.
about to crack a tecate, because i tecate my body, and i'm about to come through, sportin the shotty.
i shaved today too, cuz man like shit fuck you know right? i hate shaving, i do. i have that shitty kinda face hair that turns into a million ingrown little bastards if i cut too close to the skin. or i just do nothing and let the scruff grow until it feels like a million fingers poking me to death. there's really no comfy middle ground.
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