Blind Fury

Yeah. YEAH. You want to know why?

I brought, like, four pairs of pants with me to college. I’ve been wearing my good pair of jeans for the last, I don’t know, three weeks?

(SHUT UP, IT’S NOT GROSS. THEY’RE PANTS.)

So, today, I decided it would be a good idea to wear my other pair of jeans. I put them on. La-dee-da, brush hair, brush teeth…hmm. Something seems a little off. What could it be?

OH, OF COURSE.

MY PANTS SMELLED LIKE MOTHERFUCKING FEET.

THE SAME NASTY, ROTTEN, DISGUSTING FEET SMELL THAT I BATTLED WITH ALL SUMMER LONG.

IT FOLLOWED ME TO FUCKING OHIO.

I AM SO MAD I COULD BARF. AND EVEN THAT WOULD SMELL BETTER THAN FUCKING DEAD PEOPLE MYSTERY LAUNDRY FEET.

THEY WERE FRESH OUT OF THE DRAWER, TOO. I HAVEN’T WORN THEM OR WASHED THEM SINCE I’VE GOTTEN HERE.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

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