once upon a time, i had to pick up my entire back yard from the most ridiculous party i've ever had, and then, about six hours later while i was checking myself out in the bathroom mirror i found this little tiny, what looked like a cut at the bottom of my left breast, deer tick. fucking lyme infested-mother fucker tick. so i ripped it off. went into the kitchen, cried, while my dad calmly (with absolutely no emotion) told me, "oh, it's a deer tick." i then responded with, "yeah- don't those carry lyme disease!?" he then, still with no emotion, "yeah, probably a lyme tick. show your mother. where did it get you?" RIGHT HERE MOTHER FUCKER! right fucking here, as i pointed to my under-breast. so then i was in a mad panic to find my mom- crying. CRYING. because not only is this the first time i've ever been sucked on by one of these little cuntrags- but of course it has to be a deer tick! yessssss! thank you great savior.
so now i have to watch this bite for the next three to thirty days, and if i develop a rash/bruise looking thing that looks like... well a bruise, i've got lyme. sweet. so this means:
a) i'm going to be ten times more tired than i already always am.
b) my knees/all joints are going to hurt twenty times more than they already always do.
c) be really sick all the time- probably have to call out of work

but hey! at least i'm working eight hours in the FUCKING PHARMACY NEXT FRIDAY! thanks! THANKS. i hate cvs. i hate chris-lesbian-idon'tevenknowyourlastname cuntrag. and pharmacy bryan because he probably had something to do with this. EIGHT HOURS. thank you! THANK YOU! while i cry some more (s'more), i'll leave you with this mental image, ruby:

sat on phoebes, fatty obese dogs, head today.
awwwwwwwwwwwwwww.


seeya!
-lymey.