Perfectly Imperfect

I don’t write a lot about my personal life for good reason, but I engaged in a little drunk texting Saturday night, and I’m sufficiently mortified.

Friends shouldn’t let friends text drunk.

It was nothing of TFLN (nsfw) magnitude, but it was enough for me to research the possibility of installing a breathalyzer on my berry. It’d be genius. Blow more than a .08, and the sucker locks itself down.

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