wuddup bitches
izza sellahbrayshun bitchez.
Ok, tranq0 (aside from AB) has seen my fantastic new backyard and so has abby, maggie, morgan, and julie.
w00t.
If you have not seen it, hit me up and I'll schedule a tour with a few bells, whistles, perks, etc.
My backyard is unbelievable. You'd have to see it to understand.
In other news, my pool (the one in my fkin backyard, bitches) will be open in a week or so, maybe two. I'm gonna hook up the deck to give it a kind of lagoon atmosphere. It's gonna be pimpin'. It's gonna be like a Jay-Z music video in my backyard. Crystahhhhl and lawn chairs and vaporizing apparatuses and whatnot.
Today's top story: The Exodus of Andrew (not Nicholas, kthxlolwtfbbq)
Andrew is gone. Gone, gone, gone. He left the day before the day before yesterday, and no, that isn't a typo. He is still missing. If you know where he is call me and I will reward you with a night of unprecedented levels of irresponsible activities. Haha. Or just my eternal gratitude.
No one knows exactly why he left, or where exactly he went. We are currently looking into narrowing down his location but all efforts thus far have produced a complete lack of results. We saw the warning signs for more then half a year and we did relatively nothing so, if you know someone who looks like they need help, help them. Now. Quit reading this and keep them from disappearing. Ok, that might be drastic, but I feel really guilty for not having taken him more seriously.
They say that after half a week, the chances of one who has run away returning alive is cut in half.
I am, traditionally, somewhat of an optimist. But numbers like that shake my hopes to their very foundation.
I want AB back now. So we can fix all this shit. And get to having pool parties with homies and other sorts of delightful company. Ahem.
So, yeah. Hit me up if a.) you want to chill, b.) you want to marvel at the extravagence of my backyard, c.) know where AB is or d.) just want to talk about your steadily increasing wine collection, you deliciously knowlegable connoisseur.
Ok, tranq0 (aside from AB) has seen my fantastic new backyard and so has abby, maggie, morgan, and julie.
w00t.
If you have not seen it, hit me up and I'll schedule a tour with a few bells, whistles, perks, etc.
My backyard is unbelievable. You'd have to see it to understand.
In other news, my pool (the one in my fkin backyard, bitches) will be open in a week or so, maybe two. I'm gonna hook up the deck to give it a kind of lagoon atmosphere. It's gonna be pimpin'. It's gonna be like a Jay-Z music video in my backyard. Crystahhhhl and lawn chairs and vaporizing apparatuses and whatnot.
Today's top story: The Exodus of Andrew (not Nicholas, kthxlolwtfbbq)
Andrew is gone. Gone, gone, gone. He left the day before the day before yesterday, and no, that isn't a typo. He is still missing. If you know where he is call me and I will reward you with a night of unprecedented levels of irresponsible activities. Haha. Or just my eternal gratitude.
No one knows exactly why he left, or where exactly he went. We are currently looking into narrowing down his location but all efforts thus far have produced a complete lack of results. We saw the warning signs for more then half a year and we did relatively nothing so, if you know someone who looks like they need help, help them. Now. Quit reading this and keep them from disappearing. Ok, that might be drastic, but I feel really guilty for not having taken him more seriously.
They say that after half a week, the chances of one who has run away returning alive is cut in half.
I am, traditionally, somewhat of an optimist. But numbers like that shake my hopes to their very foundation.
I want AB back now. So we can fix all this shit. And get to having pool parties with homies and other sorts of delightful company. Ahem.
So, yeah. Hit me up if a.) you want to chill, b.) you want to marvel at the extravagence of my backyard, c.) know where AB is or d.) just want to talk about your steadily increasing wine collection, you deliciously knowlegable connoisseur.