Textual Feeling: Mind Fucked


b: so, showering and hygiene in general is really more of nuisance then it’s worth.

me:  SEE.  I TOLD YOU.

b: you should write a book.  you are so full of worldly wisdom.

me:  i know this.

typically b isn’t this nice to me.  so i felt warm and fuzzy inside.  but for like one fucking minute because then it felt like a trap.

like he was setting me up.

which he probably was.  

he was probably slyly accusing me of being a dirty fucking hippie because i don’t like to shower.  which is fine.  because that’s also why i love camping.  no one judges you when you don’t shower because  you’re “roughing it.”

regardless.

look at me and lincoln “roughing it:”

we're so greasy.

back to the task at hand.  i’m pretty sure b was just mind fucking me by back-handedly complimenting me with a masked insult that contained insinuations that i don’t shower (which i totally wouldn’t if it were more socially acceptable).

whatever.

i’m having mini cucumber sandwiches for lunch.

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