So at lunch I walked down to Shopper's to meet Rodrigo for my weekly supply of Morphine. The bastard gipped me again. He gave me the fucking needles again, not the capsules... Luckily, I've got the sweet corner cubicle here at work. Although just a couple of minutes ago the boss walked around the corner and I had to shove the needle into the seat cushion. Fuck. Now my seat's as wet as the time I pissed myself out of boredom. That can happen you know, you're just sittin' there thinking about how much better the world seemed when you were a kid and BAM, that warm wet feeling running down your leg.
That's it for now...
