I looked at Trisha kind of expectantly. "NO, I am not getting on that thing!" She sounded a little undecided, so I asked her, "You sure? It looks like...fun." "You talked me into that hypnosis thing that was a flop, and I draw the line at trying to kill myself. I am simply too young to die!" I thought she was exaggerating a little. Maybe a few broken bones but it certainly wouldn't kill her. What's a broken bone or two when you're having fun? You might wonder why I didn't volunteer to ride it if. She used to look down on the Pharm Girls she saw walking around campus, their back pushed forward by the weight of their sore, bursting udders. Many did. Cows, that's how she and her snotty friends called them, unironically sipping their Starbucks Lattes while condemning them for surrendering their body to capitalist greed.They rolled their eyes when they saw them squirming for the discomfort in their chairs during class, laughed when they ended up drenching the front of their brand tops, told. More

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