DEAR LAURA CONDI
I misses your ass, and your tears, and poor drinking habits. FOREVER ALONE WITHOUT YOU, JILLIAN’S COUCH.
WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING MESSY AND DELICIOUS? I’m currently palming the stuff into my mouth. Sometimes, bits will bail from my hand and lightly land in my crotch hole of my Indian style seated position. Every time I get up, I feel like a fairy with a trail of pixie dust trailing behind me, only it’s fucking granola. GRANOLA FAIRY. FRANOLA GAIRY.