So last night my boyfriend left the Alaskan shore and will be surrounded by nothingness without signal for four weeks and will be around a crew of dirty sailors with potty mouths who smell bad and he can only talk to me through email and, and, and (breathes) ...and I miss him already. A lot.
How on Earth can the boy do it? No clue. But he does. Oh the stories that he returns with. I'm sure there are many that I am not aware of, seeing as the crew considers their trips along the coast parallel to Vegas, and we all know that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
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