Once again these are random samplings of emails between Heath and myself.
We are wonderful.
That lady is back to bore the hell out of someone. I hope it’s not me.
He must have heard me use the term “lotion party” and came running.
I am thinking that soon he’ll tell me how easy it was to figure out. I will accept that as long as I’m not the one that has to figure it out.
I wonder if she considers August the dawn of time.
We are great. There’s no question about it.
I think in the grand scheme of things I don’t look any shittier than any one else.
He is the youngest dirty old man I know.
No one gets treated like that and reacts in this way if they’re not head-over-heels in love with someone.
This is obviously their idea of how to not solve a problem no one thinks exists.
We should drink our lunch.
He’s a shitty martyr.
I think people should call me when I complete a job and tell me how awesome I am. Every. Single. Time.
That’s what that is? I thought someone was torturing a loud bird.
I am starting to think I lost the ability to be embarrassed.
He might be the one person she doesn’t want to sleep with.
Let's get all our pervert bases covered.
Best dumpster diving day of my life.
I kind of quit being his friend then because, seriously, Phil Collins? Gross.
Holy crap. She actually agreed to do something.
I love the determination of the elusive penis artist!
Shit like this makes me want to eat 100 chocolate dicks.
Ding, ding, ding! That woman hates efficiency the way the Klan hates Sanford and Son.
You know she’s going to pay her in dildos.
The internet knows how I like to get strangers pregnant!
People and their freaking attempts at funny! It’s wearing me down.
I think he thinks he’s being funny and cute. Clearly he’s failed at being either of those.
I bet this makes you glad you have nothing to do with vaginas.
Are they dating now? Or is this just some sort of coming out party for their endorsement of being disgusting.
He thinks it’s hilarious. It’s gross.