AND WORLDWIDE SHIPPING
It was a mystery how that worked, but junkies don’t have normal bodies Official Stitch I’m so sweet I need insulin shirt by tshirtat store. They occupy a different planet, half-heartedly bobbing around in flimsy gravity, disappearing in the weird atmosphere. They stare out of bubble suits, contemplating how to manipulate money out of you. One day she grabbed my arm with her black-lacquered claws and said “The sex, oh god the sex. I can’t stay away. I think I love him.” She lowered her head and a mass of red hair spilled down like the bucket of blood in Carrie. Then she lifted her head and flung her hair behind her. Earrings jangled, a nose ring twitched. Tears ran down her pancake makeup. God, she was beautiful. She made an appointment somewhere. I was informed it would take a long time, an hour and a half, maybe two.
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They conferred, staring at my head like it was a new species recently emerged from a rain forest Official Stitch I’m so sweet I need insulin shirt by tshirtat store. Cigarettes dangled, dramatically made-up eyes scrutinized. Coke appeared. Music happened. Thrashy energetic stuff, the words punched through broken vocal cords from hoarse, desperate lungs. Then the work began. It took forever and involved products. Finally, I was turned around to face Me. My head looked like a log with an ax in it or a sailboat listing in the wind. There were doldrums of still water with unexpected fins rising here and there like menacing sharks. I searched around for feelings. So I paid sixty dollars for a cut the army does for free. Later, I shaved the chin-fuzz growing under my lightbulb head because the combo looked nutty. I felt pestered, menaced by other people’s agendas. I never felt more observed, more seen. And I never felt so negated.