The internet that we've been stealing in our apartment has suddenly disappeared, leaving me offline and bored, but I'm blogging from work to tell you this one thing. I was out on Saturday night drinking a whole lot of beers with some boys, and guess who drunk texts me. Jonny Fucking Damon. That's right he texted me!
The content of the text was of no consequence, but this tells us something. You see, there is only one reason why a boy who ended things a month ago, who has barely contacted me since, would text me while drunk at 1:30 am on a Saturday night/Sunday morning, and that reason is this:
He's not getting any.
And this makes me happy. Oh, oh so happy. Cue: evil satisfied laugh.
1 comment:
Most excellent. And aren't you going to tell us what the contents of the drunk text were?
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