Michael Jackson is a terrorist.
I saw a girl.
I saw a girl in New York and this just wasn't your regular oh-hi-ho-adario-lets-go-shoe-shopping-and-talk-about-pretty-people. It was a very irregular visit, well for me, because it takes an extreme amount of interest for me to do this. I'm very curious by nature and she had interesting concepts of how to burn off the food we were going to eat. I was intrigued. If she'd shown me blue prints of the interesting concepts, I'd still be intrigued. I don't know what that means either.
I pictured her as the touchy-feely type. I pictured her with that dark hair of hers, tangled over the shadows of the room and sitting on my lap, doing whatever creeps into her mind. All you could hear were the stifled, beautiful sounds coming from our mouths and the sounds of airplanes from outside. If you were there, you would be at a place where bosoms heave and wet rapids of poetry collide. Or something very Danielle Steel. No actually, to my surprise, there was no awkwardness no self-control, not even real conversation. We basically did the "hi, how are you?" thing and she sat on me said something about how talk is cheap. It was in this situation. She's a very passionate person in general and I've always admired that in a person. The last thing she said to me was, "oh, so fucking amazing," and it's still ringing through my head. She has various tattoos and I saw them. Every willing straight girl should have sex just once with a girl, just to see what it's like. It's like getting your own vibrator but don't tell anyone about it because your mother raised you to be a good girl. My mother didn't, though. And I've had sex with two seperate girls for hours and yes, sometimes Karolina and I still make out just for the hell of it. Or out of sheer boredom. Insert random reminiscent sigh here.
Friday night girl talks to a handsome actor fellow who claims he plays the clarinet; girl loves boy who plays musical instrument. Girl finds boy attractive, funny and quirky and invites him for a night of wine & dine. She writes his cell phone number in pink Dior lipstick on her bathroom mirror so that it would be the first thing she sees in the morning, to remind her to remind him that he should come by Sunday. He's got that science nerd appeal that every fashion model secretly loves. Complete with the suspenders. Girl says, "Impress me and come in less in twenty minutes with something good to the taste and bring something pretty." Boy comes to girl's door with a paper sack full of ingredients for pizza, and a wild variety of flowers. Exactly thirty-eight seconds after the twenty-minute mark. He passed with flying colours.
I remember a long time ago claiming that I don't do well with shy guys, and it didn't occur me until recently that I haven't actually met a shy guy until him. Shy guys have their advantages. They surprise you when you least expect it. He's weird and random, more random than me. He's a guy with moral values, more than me. If a guy can make you laugh until your sides hurt and act like it's the best thing that has ever happened to him when you kiss, don't stop there. Before you know it, strange objects appear from thin air and nothing else matters. It was his birthday yesterday. For his present I bought him a self-help book titled "How to Get the Popular Girl", so when he tells his friends about how he's having sex with a model, he can use the book as the culprit because I'm sure they wouldn't believe him otherwise. I mean, just kidding. Sorry, girls. We played with my magnetic poetry and made witty phrases like 'kitty cats are good', 'dogs are bad, but goldfish are better' and 'little teet tots are hot'. I can't pinpoint why I'd like to see him again, and I'm not going to find out. Once you find something that's hidden, the excitement of it all disappears. So I will not search for whatever it is. Not right now anyways. I'm only a tourist enjoying the... city. Scenery.
These things just build up day after day. And you're not supposed to ask why, either. Men will be boys, girls will be drama queens, and people will be cunts. late late late edit: I can't believe how true the comments proved that. late late late late edit: woo!
This site is kind of old but it will never get old for me.
I saw a girl in New York and this just wasn't your regular oh-hi-ho-adario-lets-go-shoe-shopping-and-talk-about-pretty-people. It was a very irregular visit, well for me, because it takes an extreme amount of interest for me to do this. I'm very curious by nature and she had interesting concepts of how to burn off the food we were going to eat. I was intrigued. If she'd shown me blue prints of the interesting concepts, I'd still be intrigued. I don't know what that means either.
I pictured her as the touchy-feely type. I pictured her with that dark hair of hers, tangled over the shadows of the room and sitting on my lap, doing whatever creeps into her mind. All you could hear were the stifled, beautiful sounds coming from our mouths and the sounds of airplanes from outside. If you were there, you would be at a place where bosoms heave and wet rapids of poetry collide. Or something very Danielle Steel. No actually, to my surprise, there was no awkwardness no self-control, not even real conversation. We basically did the "hi, how are you?" thing and she sat on me said something about how talk is cheap. It was in this situation. She's a very passionate person in general and I've always admired that in a person. The last thing she said to me was, "oh, so fucking amazing," and it's still ringing through my head. She has various tattoos and I saw them. Every willing straight girl should have sex just once with a girl, just to see what it's like. It's like getting your own vibrator but don't tell anyone about it because your mother raised you to be a good girl. My mother didn't, though. And I've had sex with two seperate girls for hours and yes, sometimes Karolina and I still make out just for the hell of it. Or out of sheer boredom. Insert random reminiscent sigh here.
Friday night girl talks to a handsome actor fellow who claims he plays the clarinet; girl loves boy who plays musical instrument. Girl finds boy attractive, funny and quirky and invites him for a night of wine & dine. She writes his cell phone number in pink Dior lipstick on her bathroom mirror so that it would be the first thing she sees in the morning, to remind her to remind him that he should come by Sunday. He's got that science nerd appeal that every fashion model secretly loves. Complete with the suspenders. Girl says, "Impress me and come in less in twenty minutes with something good to the taste and bring something pretty." Boy comes to girl's door with a paper sack full of ingredients for pizza, and a wild variety of flowers. Exactly thirty-eight seconds after the twenty-minute mark. He passed with flying colours.
I remember a long time ago claiming that I don't do well with shy guys, and it didn't occur me until recently that I haven't actually met a shy guy until him. Shy guys have their advantages. They surprise you when you least expect it. He's weird and random, more random than me. He's a guy with moral values, more than me. If a guy can make you laugh until your sides hurt and act like it's the best thing that has ever happened to him when you kiss, don't stop there. Before you know it, strange objects appear from thin air and nothing else matters. It was his birthday yesterday. For his present I bought him a self-help book titled "How to Get the Popular Girl", so when he tells his friends about how he's having sex with a model, he can use the book as the culprit because I'm sure they wouldn't believe him otherwise. I mean, just kidding. Sorry, girls. We played with my magnetic poetry and made witty phrases like 'kitty cats are good', 'dogs are bad, but goldfish are better' and 'little teet tots are hot'. I can't pinpoint why I'd like to see him again, and I'm not going to find out. Once you find something that's hidden, the excitement of it all disappears. So I will not search for whatever it is. Not right now anyways. I'm only a tourist enjoying the... city. Scenery.
These things just build up day after day. And you're not supposed to ask why, either. Men will be boys, girls will be drama queens, and people will be cunts. late late late edit: I can't believe how true the comments proved that. late late late late edit: woo!
This site is kind of old but it will never get old for me.