Dear British Chris,
You’re going to Prom with me.
Shut up, it’s already done.
We can be miserable together.
Summer may or may not watch depending on her prissy little mood.
The end.
I signed on to Tumblr for the first time in weeks just to reply to this, so you best feel very special. Of course I will go to Prom with you, Gianna. We can eat cheeseburgers, and then have wild, vigerous sex because THAT is what people do at Prom. That is the deed that just must be done, I’m afraid. Summer is always prissy, we can ignore/laugh at her, don’t worry.
The end.
Oh, I feel very special, indeed. Like a beautiful little snowflake. I can’t eat cheeseburgers, unless that is a highly sexual euphemism, in which case yes, let’s do that. And the latter is just A+ with me. No complaints here, my dear. I’ll wear my sluttiest dress just for you.
I already laugh/ignore Summer, so again, no issues.
I’m so exicted. I bet you look mighty fine in a tux. ;]
