You were lying face down on the sidewalk in front of my house, Tuesday night, naked from the waste-down. You had a black “Church of Satan” t-shirt.
After you broke a flower pot trying to stand up, I made you put your pants on and called a cab to take you to the only thing you could say coherently, which was “2012”. You couldn’t remember if it was Burgundy or Dauphine, however, and the cab and I left you at 2012 Burgundy.
Here’s the deal. You left your keys in the gutter in front of my house. You want em back?
Email me with the tattoos on your left and right arms for ident.
A NOLA Craigslist missed connection ad. (via cajunboy)
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