We received the text message below from our tip line this morning with no context, no explanation, and no photos of the “realist” involved in what seems like a fairly well organized girls’ trip to Las Vegas. I couldn’t tell you the chick that sent this from Rachel McAdams, yet I’m getting some serious down ass bitch vibes and I think I may be in love with this woman. Not for the right reasons, mind you, but we can’t choose the random, anonymous Internet text that we fall for. Read the words of this seductress for yourself and try not to be completely enamored with her aura.
A no-nonsense, take charge EDM head that has no problem spending daddy’s money dabbling in some extracurricular nose candy or molly? I couldn’t dream up a better wife.
She’s clearly a looker. Any broad that shames her friends into tanning or plans on shacking with Calvin Harris is at least of “Red Bull rep” or “Titled Kilt calendar girl” caliber. If I was to take an educated guess, this is a top tier Pac 12 (probably U of A or ASU) sorority gal that leads nothing but an army of dimes. You show up to the club looking tacky AF in a neon dress or wearing flip flops to the pool and she’ll not only cut you out of all the group Instagram photos during the trip but also from the squad for good. No questions asked.
I need to find this little minx. My life lacks the structure, money, and molly plug it so desperately needs, and this honey could be my saving grace. So if you somehow stumble upon this, my lady, the DMs are always open. I will gladly roll my face off with you anytime. Unless, of course, it’s at dinner with your pops. I’m a motherfucking gentleman after all..
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