The yearly password change

Dang it. I hate the yearly password change.
Now my passwords are all new and nonsense.
Numbers and letters all in a jumble.
Even talking about it makes me nervous.

Tonight I went to a comedy event.
Talks of grape-fruits.
Divorce.
Oranges.
Bags.
Pools.
Beer.
Exchange.

We talked too much as a group and received a glare from the woman with the deep voice. I assume sh-he’s gender neutral. Which is cool, its ok, but i’m assuming; which is funny, in the spirit of comedy. The “double threat” just took on a comedic meaning for me. Leave me to it. I’ll keep digging. Shocking. Where are my manners.

That night, accessories in prime colours but everything else black.
It was then, with my growing mustache it dawned on me that my suspect looks were because I looked perverted somehow. Alas. You can’t even go for a walk without needing to put in headphones and look down. Don’t you dare go out and smile at a strange, don’t dare.

Wrote about poetry.
Probably as dry as it sounds.
Drank a shot of vodka and one beer.
See-Saw the world in great detail.

Home for a cup of tea,
A game, and bed.

“honing blades dilutes the mind” – after a conversation with father.

Define Tryst.

Quote of the night from a guy I know Armi: “Just use the fucking phone”, when a question went unanswered for too long, by his count. hahaha. I laughed like hell.

“LUKE BRYAN: Oh my god, the worst kind of music I have sat through”

Mac Miller: Rapper.

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