Boba and Awkward Hugs.

"Me casually sitting with a refreshing drink, enjoying a new shirt"

"OMG SARAH-ANNE, LETS TOTALLY GET SOME BOBA DURING OUR FREE!"
"OMG DENNISEE, THAT IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA, I AM LIKE STARVING LO!L!L!L!L!L!"

Hello wrold. This is my blog.
Today I will be talking about Boba and awkward hugs:
About a fortnight ago as I was casually lounging around St. Augistine by the sea church, as I normally do on the Lord's day and an acquaintance offered me something peculiar, something exotic, something sensual. She had offered me a drink filled with exotic custardy pearls. I thought the straw was rather peculiar, but I took no notice as I inhaled 20-30 pearls.

The pearls slided down my esophagus, past my esophagial sfincter, past my epoglatus, through the trachea, deep into my lungs, it was a nice feeling.

I felt something odd inside of me, something I had never felt before. The girl began to laugh as she put on a maniacal smile.

She began to look me straight in the face:

"Big boy, big boy, big boy, I have got you now Big Boy!". She let out a devilish scream that curdled the blood in my veins.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" I said, gargling massive amounts of CUSTARD BALLS.

She began to control my body with her mind. I won't outline what she made me do, as it is embarrassing to me, my family, my community, and my emotional/psychological/mental wellbeing.

The boba had traveled deep up my spinal cord into my brain where it has layed dormant for the past 2 weeks. I can't get rest for fear that my boba wielding nemesis will control my body again.
Please, if anyone is reading this; save yourself and don't yield to the boba drinking masses, with their over sized plastic straws and their diabetes.

Thank you and God bless America,
JOBA