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Creative Writing: Mock's Poem

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*dave sat alone at the bar, leaning against the counter with a girly as fuck looking drink in his hand. he had no clue what he ordered, since he just asked for the frutiest drink on the menu. boy, he wasnt dissapointed. was there mango? strawberry? maybe even some fuckin watermelon shoved in the glass? who knows. it was pretty damn good though. dave didnt really go to bars that often, and right now he felt pretty awkward. but at least he was comfortable against the wall in the sqeaky as fuck stool. he kinda came here to maybe find some guy to fuck, but he didnt know if he would get that lucky. sure, there were probably a few hotties lurking about, but this wasnt a gay bar, so they were probably hitting on some chicks at the moment. sigh. dave

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