I am sorry that you feel like shit. I hope you get better. Being sick is gay. I am talking to you on the phone. It is Great. Yep. You should buy some carnations. For you mother or for your dog. Or Something. Yep Yep Yep. That invitation is bad-ass. You are barfing, then dying, then barfing, then dying. Hot Damn! Sweet Mushu on the Honey Baby! (You: Please Pork the Granite Monkey!) YEAH! Buh-bye!
You've weathered worse dear. A part of me really hopes things start looking up for you. And you have my number, you know I am here if things get bad and you need a real hug.
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