Fucking Christ, I've been busy this week. I wish that I could add "in more ways than one" to that sentence, but sadly, I cannot. Work, work, motherfucking work. This has been one of the longest weeks of my life. How the hell is it only fucking Wednesday
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I'd like that recipe. I'm allowed to do whatever the fuck I want. So long as the publicist doesn't find out and I'm not doing it where the paparazzi could snap it. On second thought, maybe I'm not allowed to do what I want. But then, when has that ever stopped me?
The two attractive creatures I've been seeing the past few days have been doing much more than scratching me behind the ears. But you're right. I do feel better.
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That sounded like a line.
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You mean it wasn't?
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How's Boston? Well. If you're still there, I mean.
You should call me. You know, if you ever need to vent. About the family stuff and everything. Or anything, really. Even if you don't need to vent. If you want. You know I always have the cell.
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I've wanted to call. I didn't know if you wanted me to. You've been busy.
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I want you to. I'm never too busy for you, alright? Don't forget that.
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wipeout: PFFFT.
anyway yo.
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