It is 9.30 and I’ve gotten myself up without the help of crazy boyfrand who likes to tear the blankets off and tickle me and, like, lick my face.
All I want is to be back in beddddddddddddblaaaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhpbthhhhhhhh. What? No? No more bed? Fine. Good morning.
Because lets face it… Sherlock would literally have to look for a fuck to give.
