Fear.
A horribly drunk and evil gatecrasher of the party that is your life.
It bitches in the kitchen behind your back about how dreadful the food is, how much your colleagues are bored by your work and how you’re boyfriend is flirting with that girl from marketing in the next room.
It steals the cash from your wallet and pinches the fat that peeks over the top of your jeans.
Fear is basically a bastard.
But it’s also kind of sexy. continue reading…
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