You're Shooting Heroin Into Your Labia All Wrong!! Day!
First of all, let's set some shit on fire in this place. Start with the mismatched sneakers you were hanging on to as the only remembrance of the baby you sold yesterday. No one's gonna buy them so let's set them on fire and throw them under the curtains. If you're gonna stick a needle with wet yellowish bile all over the tip into your labia majora, you better do it in a building that's about to crumble all around your oblivious junky ass.
Second, you call those eyelids vomit encrusted?!
Third, will you marry me? Just say yes. We're going for irony here, so let's play with the kind of respect for the future that is so far removed from a world where someone such as yourself might choose to stab into her vaginal tissue with an instrument of near-certain death.
Fourth, I get to go first so while I fall on my side, careful not to snap the needle while still dangling from my scrotum, you should look off wistfully at a memory of your high school graduation or your mother waving to you from behind the barred window of an insane asylum or something like that. Betray no emotion while in transit down memory lane, however.
Fifth, I'm going to choke on some vomit and die, so you're going to have to pull the needle out of my balls yourself. I won't be there to lead you through the next few steps so I hope you read ahead.
Sixth, give yourself one last once-over, hoping against hope that there's a pretty little virgin vein that all these years was just kind of shy and leaning with her back against the wall afraid of someone asking her to dance. Accidentally slip your thumb inside a wound on your neck and scream.
Seventh, keep screaming.
Eighth, pound in my skull with a brick. I took you down this road after all. (I loved you baby.)
Ninth, shake and bake. Careful. Now pull down your pants and go so numb your pulse is weaker than mine.
Um, happy You're Shooting Heroin Into Your Labia All Wrong!! Day!