Have you ever been to hell and back? Ever had a sudden wonderful awesome moment of glory but could not even feel the slightest twinge of excitement because a part of you was still stuck in the elevator on your way out of hell?
Did you get the t-shirt of that place? or were they sold out?
Ever feel like there was tears just waiting to come out and threatened to do so at any given time with no pre-given sign of notice?
Ever wonder if this situation is reserved to women only? Ever wonder why men are born with a coating of 3M, scotch guard, or Teflon to protect themselves from such a feeling of utter uckiness?
Why can’t we come with some type of lifelong guarantee of satisfaction. I need a refund on my body, it’s wore the fuck out. I need a refund on my brain, it’s too sensitive. I need a refund on my personality it’s too prone to guilt feelings. Where is life’s customer service so I can apply for an exchange?