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15 days.

"Hey, mom. When does this fucking quarter life crisis shit end?"

"When you're 30. Then you kind of wake up and realize you can have some fun."

"Oh fuck. Dude, I don't want to deal with 3 more years of this shit."

. . .

Baby, I love you. But you don't get to break my heart any more.

8:59 p.m. - 2003-05-06

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