Hopefully I can convince my grandma to buy us wine tomorrow… fingers crossed, guys.
The trouble is, I could fall in love with you. I really could. And that’s exactly why I need to find someone else.
I ordered strawberry flavored lube awwww yeaaaahhh
I am the Ernest Hemingway of communication. I cannot speak without alcohol.
Or maybe that’s just around your friends. Probably. Fuck ‘em all.
I would much rather be given seeds or a potted plant than flowers which will wilt and fester in days. Of course, all beauty is fleeting, but surely you need not harm something so wonderful and gorgeous for my sake.
Bobby brought me the decapitated head of a sunflower. It was huge and beautiful and I could feel its stickiness weeping against my fingers. I placed her in a bowl of water surrounded by the limp carcasses of several other flowers whom he stopped the car to run and fetch for me. I fondled her center for days, my fingers tenderly caressing her defeated pollen which extended itself in some form of effervescence. She was still pleasingly handsome by the time that I left.
My heart still breaks at the thought. My sweet sunflower, I’m sorry Bobby did you wrong. He’s only a fisherman with a misguided heart. He meant well, he did. Forgive his soul, Mother.
I’m a sexual being. I don’t give a fi-nuck.
"touch my butt and give me pizza"