If I had known how hard it is to get to the derma my mom recommended, I would have just set an appointment to see one who resides in Bel-Air. Now, I'm stuck in BF, pestering JList for not telling me exactly what had happened to my May cheque.
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The entire day, I've been psyching myself up by chanting, "He's gay. He's gay. He's gay. Get over him."
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