Let’s be honest. Considering what has come to pass since the first of the mass mortality events why shouldn’t we? Our boyfriends were but an assemblage of misguided facial hair decisions and unwashed Billabong shirts, possessors of a savant-like knowledge of car stereos and World of Tanks, apologists for unsent texts, garnished wages, empty afternoons spent stoned with cousins. High school diplomas were had by few, GEDs by fewer still. Hardly ever were complete sentences uttered. Sex was a thing of ungainly thrusting and occasional mouthing of nipples so artless it was like the heeding of yet another inarticulate lexicon.
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