So I go to pick up some Tylenol at the pharmacy for my husband after his procedure.
I swear, I thought that the bitch was going to shoot me in the ass with a tranqu gun, tag me, and attach a GPS radio to my collar to make sure that I was really going to give the meds to my husband and not sell them on the black market.
I mean, did I look that tore up?
I know I was lookin' a little tired, but did I look that much like a junkie?!
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