A few weeks back, a friend of mine tried to get me to be all Oprah book club with her and read a book about love language (the singles edition, even). I vetoed that, but it made for a discovery all the same.
Me: A feeeeew stolen moments stolen moments is alllll that we share. Yooooooouve got yo mama, and sheeeee needs you there. Though I tryyyyy to resist being laaaaaast on your list. No other woah-mannnnnn's gonna dooooooooooooo. So I'm saving all my donuts for youuuuuuuuuuuuu.
Friend: LOL
Me: I'm convinced my love language is rewriting songs for people lol.
Friend: lol It really is.
==========
Me: I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm fatigued and I've been abnormally hungry. If I'm pregnant, I'm gonna be sooooo pissed.
Friend: But what if it's mine?
Me: Then I'm keeping your baby. I'm gonna keep your baby, oooooooh.
Friend: lol
Me: Mama B, I know you'll be upset that I got knocked up by your little girl. But you should know by now, I'm having her babyyyyy. You ain't teach that gurl right from wrong. We need yo help, Mama B, be strong.
Me: Mama B, don't preach! We're in trouble, deep. Mama B, don't preach! Yo Jesus poster got me losin' sleeeeep. But I've made up my miiiiiind, IIIIIIIIII'm keepin' her baybayyyyy. I'm gonna keep her baybayyyy, ooooooooh.
Friend: LOL!
