Yes, I know we had some rough words when we last saw each other... ok, I had rough words, you just sat there, but you have to understand, I thought I was ready to step out on my own and go about my life, but things happened differently than what I expected.
I had no idea that sitting around on my butt for the past 6 weeks in that stupid boot, unable to do any sort of exercising would make me do it again, but there I was, shoving anything edible in my mouth with both hands, feeling all blobby again, so I just had to do it... yes, I starting shooting up heroin. Ok, that’s not true, I just started smoking again.
AHA, see, you are all freaked out. Look at how well I manipulated you, if I had just said that I had started smoking you would have been all “oh you suck , your such a faily failure!”, but after saying I was doing something horrible, you are all like “oh, whew, man you had me scared and freaked out, so smoking isn’t so bad after all”... yeah, but I’m betting with all the taxes its probably teh cheaper to make crack in my own bathtub, but yeah, its ONLY smoking.
So, Dear Chantix, its me again. Thank you for the wonderful side effects with the bizarro dreams, the waking up at 3am and not going back to sleep. I look forward to the noxious gas and uncontrollable bowels again. I missed you so.