Front Lines Communications

so i wanted to go home this weekend for the superbowl (go falcons) but you have to consent to like, a gps tracker. like you're a dog with one of those little chips in them. which is just way too fucking weird for me so i'm going to find a nice bar that i don't work in (sorry aunt t) to watch the game in on sunday if anyone who isn't a fucking creep wants to watch it with me. no patriots fans allowed

[ HUGHESES ]

mama says neither of you call enough

naomi, i have a friend who needs lawyer help. it's about making sense of immigration law, if you think you can do that. i figured you probably could now that you're like, super-smart