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No.43094382 ViewReplyOriginalReport
>Hey Anon.
>... Good morning...
>Look. Get up.
>Please.
>You don't have to live like this.
>I'm so sorry about last week. >I'm so sorry I lashed out like that.
>You don't have to live out on the streets.
>I always said that I took care of you because I 'tolerated' you, but that's not true.
>I care about you, Anon.
>You're my best friend.
>The reason I've been getting mad at you,
>the reason I've been so hard on you,
>is because I was worried.
>Ever since you messed up at the league, you came home and you were never the same.
>You woke up every day, and did nothing.
>You've been eating unhealthily, and generally just not taking care of yourself.
>I could sense that something was wrong.
>Very wrong.
>When I started getting worried, I thought I was mad at you. I felt like I HAD to be fed up with you.
>Ever since I kicked you out, I felt miserable.
>I couldn't bear thinking that you're suffering on the streets, and that it was my fault that you're just getting worse.
>I'm so sorry.
>Please, come home.
>...
>... No?
>Ok, well FUCK YOU.
I DON'T ACTUALLY GIVE A SHIT.
>GET THE FUCK UP.
>YOU'RE COMING HOME RIGHT NOW, AND YOU'RE MAKING ME TWO BOXES OF NUGGETS.
>PRONTO.
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