"I went out to the club the other night to... you know... dance with my bitches. That guy was there again. He's like... 'I'm sorry for what I said last weekend.' I told him I didn't mind, which was a lie. But I was equally sorry, and I didn't want to apologize.
It was just a drunk text. In my head I was writing a fiction of us. And in my eyes, I was begging for things my lips would never ask. And my mouth kept pouring desperate clauses of random intent. He asked me if he could text me later... after the club. He hands me another shot of vodka, and I say 'Sure.'
I'm on the dance floor when I get a text from Adam. I'm too lazy to type, so I send him a picture I took up a dancer's skirt and tell him to 'Come and get it,' not realizing what I had just said.
Later on, She comes up to me, holds up her phone, screaming at me, and I say 'I'm sorry. It was just a drunk text.'
I should have known they knew each other. No one is safe in the Twittersphere anymore.
You take the word 'sex' and mix it with texting. It's called 'sexting'. And when you add 'drunk sexting', the words don't make any sense."
lmao
