Of late I have been rattling on about my new boy toy-
It was a wonderful summer romance that began with the kick off of memorial day fireworks, peaked on the fourth of july--and fizzled out before labor day. It's all very Grease-esque. Oui?
The long and short-I was cheated on.
WHAT THE HELL DUDES!! Why do you cheat?
Honestly? What the hell is it??
I think I am a pretty niffty girlfriend. I will let you go out with your guy friends, I freakin encourage it. I realize you will look at other boobies, just as I will forever watch crotch. It's nothing personal it's how life is. I don't think masturbating is cheating--hell I'll buy the porn for you! I will watch football with you, and know the difference between offsides and lined up in the neutral zone. I will drink beer. I will even think it's funny when you burp or scratch your ass, provided it's not done at the dinner table. I will not expect you to call me every night. Nor will I want to see you every night. I have a life for goddsakes, and you are part of it, but you are not the center--nor would I expect to be your sun and moon. I am cute goddamnit! And I have a personality! Oh yes, and did I mention I LOVE SEX! I want it all the freaking time! I want it nasty and wrong! I will be the coquettishslut of your wildest dreams!
But, inspite of all my kickassness--I get cheated on. *sigh*
I must have been like some male chauvinist in my past life, and this is karma come to whip my ass!
So there you have it.
My new sacred vow will be to stop opening up to people, and embrace the bitter hag within me that my mother always knew I could be. I think I shall head to the pound tomorrow to pick up half a dozen cats, then hit the Goodwill to pick up some cartigans, rubber flipflops, and a few house dresses. Maybe, for the added mile I will get some plastic rollers to wear at all available opportunities. I may take up smoking and leave off with the bathing. Because who do I have to smell minty fresh for? NO ONE! So I might as well smell like dead fish so at least the cats will love me.
Do you know what really chaps my ass about all this?
I just bought 6 matching bra and panty lacey thingy cute deals to wear for, and to impress my dear departed manwhore. ALL FOR NAUGHT!! The cats will not approve.
But yeah--if any of the above now turns any of you fine foxy apostate men on--give me a call. I am easy, and it would now seem, back in the meat raffle at the VFW of life. Do you have B15?
Jo of the "I might as well wear the granny panties on my head now" class.