Zipbag of Virgins

HI CHRISTINE!

So I have this friend who shall remain nameless, except for the part above where I say her name, just forget about that and go on about your lives thinking this friend is anonymous.

So Nameless Friend makes me feel quite advanced in years because she does things like glue colored feathers into her hair and wear her bangs chopped sideways like an a-line skirt and actually buy clothes instead of inheriting them from her grandmother.

And she's turning 21 next week. Which means not only will she not remember this post by July, but she also won't remember her birthday by next weekend, so I have a plan.

I will convince her she's only 20 and she got arrested for underage consumption (after she blacked out on her birthday) so she'd better hurry up and hide all her booze, but don't worry because I am WAY over age and will happily dispose of every drop of alcohol, even the Boone's Farm. And I won't even charge her.

That will be my birthday gift to her.

Until today, Christine she was a virgin to this blog, which means she still thinks I'm relatively normal. Things are boutsta change up in heeya.

I happen to know that at this moment, my nameless friend is reading this post from a chair (presumably) in a dingy garage (possibly) on her sister's Ipad (definitely) while her cousin stabs her with a needle over and over and over and over, but not just because it's fun as hell, but also because he's putting a tattoo of the word "believe" on the top of her foot, and all of this to say HI CHRISTINE NAMELESS FRIEND! How ya feelin? You hurting right now? PAIN-SIES?

Ouchsies.

Also, Nameless Friend, here's something you may have already considered, but most people ALREADY believe that their feet exist.

You might want to get some counseling for that.