For the most part I keep it together at work, but during an internship in which I held talks at public schools I got into trouble for accidentally dropping the f-bomb. I don't even regularly use curse words! When I'm among friends and family it can get downright ridiculous the things I vomit out. I also never know when I'm going to burst out into a completely inappropriate Phil Collins inspired song and dance routine. I even have to keep an eye on my blog because sometimes what seems like a great idea for a post isn't as wonderful as I think it is.
For example, today's post was originally going to be about the sort of logistical problems that might arise when having sex with a conjoined twin. For example, what if, in the heat of the moment, you accidentally stick into the wrong twin? Is that considered cheating, or even rape? Or, is it like when you "accidentally" stick it into a woman's butt? You wait to see if she's into it and then if she gets mad, you apologize profusely with the hope that you can go back to Plan P. It went on like this for longer than I care to admit.
This is my life now. This is what I have to deal with because of past marijuana abuse. All because when I was younger I didn't have the courage to stand up and say "I'm not a chicken! You're a turkey!".
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