If I die of a heat stroke in this apartment

 

If I die of a heat stroke in this apartment—

Just know I went out hotter than the tan lines on goth girls in fishnets.

And if you’re reading this at my funeral, I ask that you please include this in the eulogy:

“He didn’t ask for much—just that a few select women (yes, only women) he dreamed of seeing topless someday… show up respectfully shirtless to honor his memory. It’s what he would’ve wanted.” 😔

Sorry fellas—you’re not on the list. But thanks for understanding.

I’m currently laying here marinating in rotisserie sweat, half-baked like a 7-Eleven taquito, and still holding out hope I might live long enough to see just one pair.

Don’t give up on me yet. I’m not done. I’m still boob-hoping. I’m still here.

If I die… donate me to the hungry. But like—brine me first.

#RotisserieSeason #DeathByThirstAndHeat #BoobListOrBust #AshAndInkAfterDark