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“Yeah, it’s Bird Flu.” “That’s not funny.” “Sorry. I’m drunk sex fine. It’s warm out and I’m overdressed.I slump on the sofa, put on Iggy Pop’s Idiot album for a taste of old drunk sex school punk-new wave recorded in the shadow of the Berlin Wall, and sigh. Thanksgiving is already half over. The Vine The TN advice column. Dear Sars, My problem is my life. drunk sex I am 23 years old and just finished a post-graduate teaching qualification. I don't have a job yet but plan on doing supply until the right one (when a school says it'll have me!) comes up. I have always been a bit weird; I like my own time and I'm scared of pubs and clubs. I don't like big groups of people and I find it really hard to make conversation with anyone. I get really uptight at the thought of social interaction. I've always had a few friends but now I've only got one, who lives a long way away and has got her own busy life going on. We haven't spoken for months because I really don't have anything interesting to say.
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