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Interns

You clean yourself off, join the rest of the overwrought, unpaid interns in the office, and douse your puffy, pillow face with your special brew. It consists of strong black coffee (to crack you out) mixed with merlot (Charles Shaw obvi) and topped off with slices of apples (to clean your teeth).

The threesome was a going away present for my boyfriend who just a few days ago moved away to Boston for the entire summer to study some complicated science stuff at Harvard. (Apparently Harvard is “in” right now.) So now I’m sad and alone at my apartment staring at my air-conditioner, feeling depressed about the fact that I’ve literally already watched every (good) porn movie on the internet multiple times over.

In New York, everyone’s always crying about not having any money but it’s like, just move to Kansas City, Missouri, and live like a king if you hate it here so much. This isn’t Just Kids by Patti Smith anymore.

Oh, we have 55 mutual friends and you’re telling me that this is a “Person I May Know”? Screw off, Facebook. Of course I know this person. How could I forget them? They taunted me mercilessly in high school. They gave me anxiety while walking down the hallways and intimidated me with the Linkin’ Park sticker on their backpack. [

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