(sidenote: Not only is Pepto Bismol completely ineffective at eliminating "feels like you are being stabbed repeatedly in the stomach and someone is twisting the knife around 360 degrees" symptoms, but it also apparently makes your tongue black the next morning. Completely unnecessary side effect to scare people with when you are already pretty sure you're dying from the plague or Pete Wentz disease.)
Speaking of Wentz, if you've read my previous story, it should be unsurprising to hear that between my bouts of pain that I can only imagine is similar to being in labor with triplets that are clawing your womb up in protest of being asked to leave, except you don't have an epidural, nor babies in your stomach to push the fuck out and get rid of the pain), I often muttered "somehow, this is Pete Wentz's fault." It's become an updated version of the Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, except this time you're trying to link horrible life events that happened to you with Pete.
For example. Yesterday was Saturday. I felt like I was going to die yesterday. Fall Out Boy has a song called "Saturday." This is Pete Wentz's fault.
Join the latest craze. Stop blaming shit on yourself. Blame it on Wentz!!!
Oh. Wait. There was actually a point to this post. In my delirium I decided that if I made it out alive, I would upload a few pictures from that Fall Out Boy concert that ruined my life to share with you all. I'm still not sure why this felt like a good idea at the time, but I posted them anyway. Check the photo section of my site to creep on them (they are terrible though, partially because I'm a bad photographer, partially because of the events of the concert, and partially because I was using my mom's ancient old ass 1.3 megapixel off brand camera. But mainly because I'm a bad photographer). However, since I know that some of you are too lazy/apathetic to waste your time looking for the link, I am going to post the best of the best here. Total exclusives!!!!
I'm a horrible person. But I'm feeling much better!
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