I would quickly change out—getting into my jeans and tank. Throwing on a pair of kicks, with no socks. Skipping the shower, as discretely as I could...��didn't want the other guys to notice, or catch on. Then jet home as quickly as I could. It was like a race going down the stairs to the basement, pulling my kicks off, and huffing on them like a d**ggy huffing glue. I would take deep whiffs, inhaling my own foot funk. It got better throughout the year as the sneaks got more and more dirty, and thus. "The tomato soup you gave me a little while ago" I said."John that was 2 days ago, you've been asleep for longer than you think. I was starting to get worried, so I called the doctor from town. He took a look at you and said that you were dehydrated and suffering from exposure. After I told him about your situation, and what that bitch did to you," How did you know about my situation?" I snapped. I started to get up but the room started spinning. Once the objects around me were stable again, I. More

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