Considering the fact that my birthday will happen while we're on vacation, I'm considering buying pizzas and beer for the colleagues tomorrow. To celebrate what? I hate getting older. It fucking shows. I look in the mirror and I wonder when the hell did this happen. Something died there. And good looks are relative, they depend so much of your emotional state. Happiness and hopefulness are so hard to simulate. When I look at myself I see this:
I need more make-up!
So I feel old and my picture can be used as a poster promoting sexual abstinence.
Open Letter To The Hot Guy I Meet On The Bus When I'm A Bit Late For Work
Hello, Mr. Gorgeous,
We've been meeting on the bus for some time now. I couldn't help noticing you. It was hard not to, with the shorts you're usually wearing. Nice legs. Really, really nice legs! Have you ever been complimented on the thighs? Of course, I would suggest shorter and tighter shorts, but that's for me to dream of...
The dragon tat on your left arm is so cool. I've always had a fascination with tattoos. (They look lickable.) And it gives you a bad boy aura. Sexy!
And you smell so nice!
I'm glad you gave up those sunglasses though. You have beautiful eyes and, honestly, with those glasses I kinda expected you to burst into a "What we have here is failure of communication" discourse. *Cool Hand Luke moment*.
That too tight and too short green t-shirt this morning - nice touch! How about you drop that sports newspaper and...
Eh. You know, what? Nevermind.
Sincerely yours,
Me