we had a bar guest tonight who has been in a couple times before and she was rly morose this time and was like thanks for being here i have been feeling so alone
and then she told us she was really torn up because her close friend died yesterday, and also that this close friend is the man who cured smallpox (????) and then after she left we were like there is literally no fucking way that her friend cured fucking smallpox so we googled it and the person who cured smallpox did in fact die on January 26th.... but in 1823
i have been haunted by this all night. like. what?















