I have to keep reminding myself that only bad things will come from falling for a straight girl. So I should stop. But, I don't. What do I do instead? I wait for her to fucking call and when she does I blubber like an idiot.
Because I am an idiot.
I don't know if you're catching on yet, but it would seem to be that I am falling for a straight girl.
Straight as in not gay.
Straight as in she was with her boyfriend for two years until they broke up.
Straight as in she likes to be fucked by a penis.
And I do not have a penis. I really don't get that whole strapping it on thing. Call me old fashioned, but I really am a tongue and fingers type of girl. I should really get a hobby or a pet, maybe goldfish. No, not goldfish, they die too quickly.
I've spent the past hour and a half looking up/filling out scholarships. I'm deathly afraid of stupidity so I'm going off into the world to find higher education...and orgies. No, really. I'm one of the classiest broads you'll ever meet.
There's always a downside to having a revelation. Mine would be that I don't like my friends. Now that I've found this out, I can't stop thinking about it and it's getting harder for me to tolerate them. I'm not a pessimist so I don't think that I'm meant to be alone. I do believe, however, that the universe is telling me to get off of my ass and go find some better friends.
I passed up the chance to go shopping with them yesterday. Shopping is code for, "lets go try on clothes and then stuff them into our purses."
Fun, fucking, fun.
My gray skies are gone, now replaced by a torrent of heat, humidity and sun. It's a bit unbearable to be in. I thought winter was calling. Dancing with the Stars came on last night and I had to sit through practically the entire show just to see Mel B...that woman is fucking jaw-dropping. From her head down to her toes, and the voice, my God. It was probably the most uncomfortable situation that I've been in, in quite a while.
Picture this:
You're sitting on the couch with your forty-three year old mother watching Dancing with the Stars, she keeps saying, "oh how lovely. how lovely"
And then Mel B comes on, breast-a-poppin, ass-a-jaw droppin.
Your mother says, "look honey it's a spice girl!"
"yeah mom, i see her."
And all the while that the spice girl is dancing your mother is saying, "how lovely, how lovely"
but you..
You're not saying anything. Because you can't, because if you do. What you're thinking might accidentally slip out , which would be something like "i would fuck her until she was blue in the face and couldn't move."
Awkward, yes.
But I would fuck her until she was blue in the face and couldn't move. The only bad thing about that woman is Eddie Murphy and really I could live with that. Thank you, Dancing with the Stars. Thank you.
Maybe my life would be more fulfilling if I had an addiction. It would be time consuming and it would give me something to do. I'll make sure that it's a taxable addiction. That way I could help the economy while I was entertaining myself. It's a win win. I could develop a porn addiction. Well, an even bigger porn addiction. There would be blow up dolls, sex toys, hey and maybe even one of those contraptions that hang from the ceiling. What fun.
I'm giddy with anticipation.
Look both ways before crossing the street,
Me.
Now really, not having your laptop can put one into quite a pissy mood. That's a great way to start my first blog ever, I do think. It's about sixty-five degrees outside, it's raining, the sky is a gross gray, and the thunder is making the cafe shake. I think I'm in love. There should really be more restrictions on who is exactly allowed into places. For example, the patrons next to me are loud with the smell of old beer and seven dollar cologne. Classy, classy. I was talking to myself last night and I do believe that it is way past time for me to get a girlfriend or at least a girl to make out with. No, a girlfriend. I'm so not into fucking for parts. Unlike my best friend who, for the sake of good intentions I will now refer to as...Morgan. Yes, he's a boy. A very gay boy. When I first met him, I thought he was going to be my best friend forever. Now, that I know him, I ignore his phone calls. Am I horrible person? Maybe. But, I love him, even though I hate him. We all know the opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. He doesn't make me feel indifferent, he makes me want to push him down a flight of steps. No, really I adore him. I'm thinking about investing in a MAC just because I think the covers are pretty. I'm also thinking about investing in friends who don't make my stomach churn, which all of them do. I guess they're just too hardcore for me, or whatever. It's not their fault that I can't stand them. It's mine. I put people on this huge mountain and when they fail to deliver what I expect from them, I think less of them. I'm so fucked, I know. The only reason I came to this shop was to check to see if Anna had replied back to my Myspace message. Yes, I have a Myspace, fuck you. She hadn't. She's my straight girl crush of the month. She's beautiful. And hopefully not as straight as I think she is. Have you ever thought about the fact that there are billions of people on this planet and all of us are thinking hundreds, maybe thousands of thoughts at a time. It's a wonder that with all that going on nothing blows the fuck up. Really. Before I leave, I just want, whoever reads this to know that I'm not some judgmental fuck wad who hates the world. I, in fact, love the beauty that this earth holds. I just have yet to find it. I watched Ray today. I want to learn how to play the piano.
And I really hope I never go blind.
With all the love in the world,
me.
Nothin but heartache those straights. I have ideas for your addiction; obscene oragami, obscene macrame, table tennis. read more
on Mel B. My Mother. And My New Found Faith on Finding an Addiction.