I think it may be time to reinstate The Nice Girl Project. My ridiculous hijinks since parting ways with the minor are slightly out of control. Not to mention the fact that I can't seem to proceed any further than my own apartment building to play with boys. Earlier this week I got into an argument with the neighbour I slept with a few months ago and we aren't speaking. We share walls but don't speak. The argument was entirely sourced by his own freakazoidness, so I don't feel bad about that. However, I've been hanging out with my upstairs neighbour a bit lately, the one who shares my ceiling. The precise events of last night's events aren't important, however, they resulted in my having to send him the following e-mail for damage control:
"Hey,
About last night...I don't really know what you want from me or why you care what I want. I'm just having fun, I'm a huge flirt and love boys.
I don't know why I kissed your brother, that was weird. And last night I was attracted to both you and your buddy, what can I say. It was douchebaggery at its finest.
I shall venture out of our apartment building in search of my next love interest. Don't worry about replacing my beer, I'm never drinking again.
Sincere fucking love and all that shit"
Jesus Christ. Enough said.
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