Saturday, June 30

Och, that poor boy.

Mein Gott, what have I done?! I can barely believe it. I have brushed my teeth and rinsed my mought twice, I may have to wash it out with soap to be fully cleansed.
Mere hours after being pinched in the butt by some random possibly not fully sober ( it's hard to tell the foul stink of alcohol was neatly concealed under the stench of fat, bbq sauce and garlic) stranger. I actually felt pity for a man. I have said in audible voice and not even my regular mutter: "Och, that poor boy". You have reason to suspect something is not well.

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