Let’s be patently clear: we’re friends, I already like you. I like you a lot, I like having you in my life. I enjoy our conversations and our lunches and our brunches and our late nights. I enjoy running into you when we see each other out in the world. I like having an uncomfortably long hug from you at a party or our occasional, very personal one-on-one conversations. I think about you very fondly most of the time, even if we got into it over something stupid that we later resolved. Remember that time before I got sober when you dragged me, seven shots of Jameson deep, screaming out of a bar threatening to kill a bunch of snotty, fratty “you can’t hit me my daddy’s a lawyer”-types for smacking you on your ass and then you tried to make out with me in the car? Good times.
I’m Tired of Favoriting and Liking Crap
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