I woke up this morning with metallic blue eyeliner glueing my eyelashes shut, face down in a room that is no longer really mine as the sun creeped through the blinds and a familiar kiss graced me with goodbye
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you might receive a present for yo good ol' 2-1 in the form of a black-haired, pale, curvy, 5'7" chuck taylor wearin', minor threat lovin' no-longer-meat-eatin' punk rock girl (dead milkmen song begins to play now). Could you even begin to imagine a more wonderful gift? (the sarcasm is literally dripping off my lips as i type). I'm not 100% yet, but i'm pretty certain that i've found a way up for your birthday. YAY! so what do you want to do? is it going to be the standard bar crawl? or a party perhaps?
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I miss you a whole bunch,
Christopher
party crazy
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