Dear God,
I am officially a tool. I both FB and text. It's okay, though, because I have nothing of substance to say. I hope you still accept me into heaven, as I wrote a pretty awesome essay on my qualifications for sainthood. See ya, bro!
Yikes...about me. How can one sum that up in a box on Facebook? I'm a riddle, wrapped in a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, tucked in a Tiffany's box, recycled in brown paper, wrapped in a chinese takeout carton, stuffed in the glove compartment of a '79 Cadillac, poured into a nice bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. You tell ME what it means.
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