I may be missing the party itself but I will be living vicariously through Fab’s drunk texts this evening. Yay. :) :)
(Actually, I’m a little scared.)
Oh Mr. Harris! Don't touch me! Mr. Bob Harris! Just rip my stocking!
This morning I bought potato salad, a bean burrito, and cookies. I'm very curious to see which of these items I actually eat for lunch.
commentsAllie loves it when I clean her ears with Q-tips. She's purrrrrrring.
commentsVoodoo doughnut. Nuff said.
commentsShhhh, don't tell anybody, but the landlord just told me there's free cable here. (Not. gonna. do. it.)
comments
Oh please. You love it.
Do you want the nude texts, too?
I think the one photo text you sent me was sufficient, thank you. (Read: NO, I DON’T WANT NAKED TEXTS.)
You Massfloridians are so strange…
You should collect the texts and post them as they happen with commentary
This way we can all live vicariously.
We’ll see. He’s not even drunk yet and he’s always promising to send me nude texts (see above). I can only guess what he’ll promise after half a drink.
Um, Freudian slip. *always=already. I don’t recall ever receiving texts of any sort before tonight from Fab. So, “always” is a bit ambitious.
I should have used Twitter from my cell or something during the party.