Dear Sex,

Where did you go? You have to be somewhere, but for the life of me I can't beat the information out. I thought we had a good thing going, but you just up and disappeared. It's been so long that I've started watching the Real World again. What am I thirteen? Although my birth certificate says no, the constant wood begs to differ. I even found myself thinking that I loved New York's boob job. I think that when I have sex again I'll be finished sooner than OJ was in the media. Oh well, here's to getting back on the horse.

Lost to Religioin

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