Whelp, here it is…The Champagne Problem of the week! The day we’ve all been waiting for! The day my sassy Pennsylvania accent gets dumped via text message. I know, I know. I’m loud. But I swear that’s not why it ended. I swear. I think he was kidnapped by aliens that live in the Hollywood Hills and forced to drink P. Diddy’s vodka until he vom vom’d on his pom pom. (I don’t know what that means).
Anyway… To be fair, the fact that I’ve made it until my mid-twenties before a human being squashed my love affair dreams by the hands of an electronic devil device is something to be proud of, no? But alas, the burn still sizzles nonetheless.
(Time out: This has nothing to do with the column…enjoy! )
Okay, we’re back. Look, I am no genius, but don’t you think it’s time we start to face people in a way that they deserve to be faced? You know, like, tell the truth to them. In front of them? Or at least using your voice box? I know it’s bothersome and annoying to do such a thing like “take the time” but, regardless I think you should try. I am no sexy Vicky Secret model or nothing but I think Lil Momma (I’m Lil Momma) deserves the right to have a five minute phone call with a guy she’s been riding shotgun with in a sexy way. (Not that way. Literally riding in the front seat of a car. Shotgun!).
Call me ol’ fashioned, but I am starting a trend where if things don’t work out with a sassy significant other possibility, I am going to do the bold/unthinkable and let him/her know via my voice box…mostly, so they don’t go on the internet and do something crazy. Boo ya!
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