Hardcore Partygirl Part 9

Luna's "thesis" of not being able to trust that bootlegging Hula-Hula knockoff through bad vision as the primary was dashed quite quickly, as her admittedly loser glasses poofed into nowhere. "Shit! He's blinded me!" was Luna's first thought, but then she felt the blurry patterns of her drug haze start to solidify into that lame checkerboard pattern again. "You know, for a drug haze, this is a classy color scheme. It's like the Cheap Trick guy designed this or somethin'. That'd be cool to know. Shit, what if rock stars made their own designer drugs? That would be ill as all get out..." Her legs felt more contained. That was aight. Didn't wanna give that perv any upskirt now. Also, through a lot of knowledge of fighting right after Mass, she knew that unless the other party was wearing a skirt, she'd have a loss on her ass. 'Sides, her sick belt came back! "Woot!"

As proven by South Park, "shit" is no longer strong language, so this doesn't feel mature to me. I hope this doesn't offend anyone.