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superconfessional


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I've figured out that I need constant stimulation in multiple forms virtually all the time. I need the computer on, multiple windows, music playing, looking through a magazine, tv on flipping through channels, phone next to me texting...etc. I can't just do nothing, or even a reduced number of "distractions", as everyone else seems to call them. I just absorb information like woah.

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my mom and my family friend (he's pretty much like an older brother) were talking yesterday trying to get me to go to church because apparently the priest is really handsome and "my type". i want to investigate, but my mom said if i walk into church, i might start melting.

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fuckin performing with my buddy this weekend and i'm fuckin excited and nervous! the hype we're getting for our music is crazy and pretty unbelievable. i just don't want to disappoint the collective though, since its our first duo performance and all. i have a bad feeling i'll forget my words when i'm on stage even though i remember them by heart.

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i once had a beloved hornets snapback some years ago which i got the guitarist from fucked up to sign on the underbrim

then i was eating at roscoe's chicken and waffles one night and totally forgot it at the booth and came back to find that someone stole it

to this day, i look at anyone with a hornets snapback with intense suspicion and usually stare for a couple of seconds before i realize that my hat has been long gone :(

i do the same whenever i see a red peugeot bike

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if i were going to med school, then id totally be a gynecologist.

Yeah, until you have to examine an old lady who smells like bad fish down under, and behold, it's totally prolapsed out, all scarred with bits of pus and dried blood here and there.

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if i were going to med school, then id totally be a gynecologist.

not sure if you're posting this to be 'internet funny', but seeing that its superconfessional ill assume you're serious

why would you ever want this? maybe the first 10 young nubile pussies you see would be dope... but one day your wife will have put on 80 or so pounds after giving birth, you'll be getting zero sex because you're no longer attracted to her, but every day at work you'll be looking at what you can't have and then go home and sleep 3 feet apart from your wife in your new memory foam king size bed

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Be like "HOE, you better be gettin a diet coke with that triple whopper. I can't afford to be afraid of that coochie coochie." Fuck a memory foam you better remember to keep that azz in check.

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