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there's something ever so fight-club-ish about having spatters of blood on the front of my shirt at work.
okay, not the fact that they came from a sudden flood of a nosebleed that happened after i blew my nose, but still. don't fuck with the ops crew, man, we're bloody today. and not in that girlie bleeding from the crotch kind of way, either.
okay, not the fact that they came from a sudden flood of a nosebleed that happened after i blew my nose, but still. don't fuck with the ops crew, man, we're bloody today. and not in that girlie bleeding from the crotch kind of way, either.
