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The heat pulled me in the house at 5pm and that's where I spent my Friday night. I didn't care about not having a life, I had central air! And my not-quite-famous fried chiggen. I retired for the evening before 10 pm, but not before catching another episode of "1,000 Ways to
I gulped down the last of my moscato -- to numb the shock of, hello... dude bathed to death! -- and called it a night. By the way, thank goodness I'm not classy and will gladly accept the cheapest twist-capped bottle with a Kangaroo on it, on sale with a Food Lion MVP card.
Speaking of class...
I am still wanting some Cocained!ck . I keep thinking about him! It's been over a month and I have managed to move on so far, so WTF is happening? I drunk texted him last weekend and, almost thankfully, he didn't respond. Then out of the blue he sends some vague text at 1:30. Yes that was the booty call alert. I ignored it and tried to go back to sleep. But then the dreams and accompanying voices filled my nappy head:
Damn it. One more time won't make you no more than a whore than you already are.
C'mon, this is familiar dyck. Forget all the technicalities, yo (like, I dunno,
Wouldn't it be nice to raise your azz in the air, and squ!rt it out like you just don't care, as he hit it from the back? (and you don't care because these his sheets, at his house!)Yeah, it would be nice, wouldn't it. Give the toys a break tonight. No...don't reach for the....aww damn. But okay, this works for now.
Yep, his random message went ignored...and yes, that was a major step for me.

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