Parfait, mom-may? — Chocolate, Baileys and Strawberry Parfaits

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I’m horrible at giving gifts. I don’t know what anybody wants and what a “thoughtful” gift is. If you want a card, though, I can be meaningful as fuck and write you a sonnet that will make you sob.

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Because some things can’t be translated — Serradura, or Sawdust Pudding

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I’m pretty proud of myself. I woke up early the other day. That’s right, you heard it here. I woke up early! Woke up at the good hour of about 12pm. At least, that’s what I think. The earliest text I sent that day was about at 12:09pm, so I’m guessing 12-ish is correct, figuring I have to work in the time I spent playing phone app games, checking my snaps, and pining over boys who will never love me on facebook.
It’s a hard morning routine, I know, but somebody’s gotta do it.

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