Week Four, here we go. It’s a Monday, and that’s my fin day. Apparently it’a also the day I ate too much garlic.
Garlic is a thing so horrible for me, that I avoid it like good hipsterd do wheat and wheat by-products. The time’s I’ve been Garlic Bombed have been so personally scarring to me that I remember each one as if it were yesterday.
Forget yesterday, might it be tomorrow?
Who to blame? The mother of all chaos. The evil one. My favorite.
Her name is Rock. She rocks. And her soup might roll me.
Might being the operative word. I might explode with garlic badness. I might simply go “bleh”
My probiotics might kick in. antioxidants. Do I remember antioxidants?
Welp, I might… REAL SOON
Poor Zita. It could be a long time until morning.
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