I Don’t Care About Your Astrology

On October 4th 1991, I made my way into this world. Screaming at the tippy top of my baby lungs, my dad looked lovingly at my mom, who was too drugged to know if she had just delivered a baby or shit a literal brick. She turned to my dad, told him he was rather attractive and asked if he was single. He told her no, but he would still like to take her out on a date. She frowned, told him to please fuck off and promptly passed out.

The moral of the story above is that it’s funny to screw...

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