Yesterday, before we had that horrible night (deciding not to go to Vuenos), I was sitting on Mary's bed while she was showing me her poll dance moves for the punk show she'll dance at. Then all of a sudden she stoped and:
"Would you like to lay on my pillow?"
"What?#$)'%"
Apparently that was a 100-dolar pillow with some water in it. Soo comfortable.
We had another odd conversation but I forgot. Maybe she'll remind me later.
I want a 100dolar-pillow too.
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