(no subject)
My cupboards have stigmata, my dear, and you've been out long past your bedtime.
List of offenses:
- Sold your soul for a twenty dollar bottle of wine
- Kissed in an elevator. He's thirty two with a nine year old son. He's going to teach you how to live! love! travel! fuck! and suck dick ("Down on your knees please, loosen your jaw.")
- I mean your TITTIES in a BAR
and anyway
SHADES OF JOHN
John
I mean do I WANT to be sexually compromised at work again.
So what am I even doing, world, universe, internet, BEACH HOUSE?
This is the story, these are the deets: you love a man who subjects you to dirt and smells delicious but makes you feel so bad and small and dirty. You love a man to teach you. I want his dick! I want his fucking body, his Gucci shoes, his life, his hands on my pussy and his love in my eyes. Hey Matt please fall in love with me. Please whisk me off to Vegas and New York and Chi-tooooooooown and NYC.
What the fuck.
On the alternative side of this day was my talk with one MIKE K and I mean it was so good. And I dreamt so hard about him all last night, working up possible scenarios ("It's too hard to love you, you're too much work." "Welcome to my mansion!") and I keep dreaming about him. So we talk and I fall in love AGAIN well what can you do! He's so dreamy, he's so fine, JeeeeSUS. I keep going back and forth on him, I want him I don't want him I do I don't. He's UP HERE I'm down here. Just like me and Matt. So me and Matt, me and Mike K. Here's my love life (lack of love life).
Tomorrow night I'm getting felt up in my childhood bed and I might fuck, or I might not, depending how I feel. Depending on what music is playing. Depending on how down here I feel. Depending on if Matt is a player I mean GOD just relax and get into me.
Real bar life.
List of offenses:
- Sold your soul for a twenty dollar bottle of wine
- Kissed in an elevator. He's thirty two with a nine year old son. He's going to teach you how to live! love! travel! fuck! and suck dick ("Down on your knees please, loosen your jaw.")
- I mean your TITTIES in a BAR
and anyway
SHADES OF JOHN
John
I mean do I WANT to be sexually compromised at work again.
So what am I even doing, world, universe, internet, BEACH HOUSE?
This is the story, these are the deets: you love a man who subjects you to dirt and smells delicious but makes you feel so bad and small and dirty. You love a man to teach you. I want his dick! I want his fucking body, his Gucci shoes, his life, his hands on my pussy and his love in my eyes. Hey Matt please fall in love with me. Please whisk me off to Vegas and New York and Chi-tooooooooown and NYC.
What the fuck.
On the alternative side of this day was my talk with one MIKE K and I mean it was so good. And I dreamt so hard about him all last night, working up possible scenarios ("It's too hard to love you, you're too much work." "Welcome to my mansion!") and I keep dreaming about him. So we talk and I fall in love AGAIN well what can you do! He's so dreamy, he's so fine, JeeeeSUS. I keep going back and forth on him, I want him I don't want him I do I don't. He's UP HERE I'm down here. Just like me and Matt. So me and Matt, me and Mike K. Here's my love life (lack of love life).
Tomorrow night I'm getting felt up in my childhood bed and I might fuck, or I might not, depending how I feel. Depending on what music is playing. Depending on how down here I feel. Depending on if Matt is a player I mean GOD just relax and get into me.
Real bar life.