On Life and Love


I discovered the identity of the gas-passer mentioned in my last post. Turns out he’s the guy I randomly picked to email this quarter whenever I missed class and needed to get the homework. There’s about a 1 in 25 chance of that, and I just got so lucky.

Honestly, guy. It’s rude enough to fart in public, and it’s worse when your farts actually stink. *gagging sounds*

Hey, maybe I should email him. “Dear Mr. Hobo… Stop being a nasty fucker!”