One cold day in June, I decided to give blood in the high school blood drive. They slowly drained my precious life-juice, and that was that, until, one day, the Red Cross sent me a little package. What was inside was perhaps the most pathetic series of ego-stroking since the last time I talked to a Tokyo Breakfast fan. Dare you read...the Thank-you Packet of Doom?
Read On, If You're Manly Enough:
Part 1: N. Rebecca Haley, M.D. the 'N' is for 'Narcissism', kids!
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