What do you look like when you have sex? Doesn't your caked on makeup smear? What does your cum face look like? I'd be scared. Wouldn't you be scared having that raccoon bobbing over you... (or under you... whichever position you so incline...) Oh man, what do you look like in the morning? Remind me to replace my pillow cases if we ever find ourselves having sex in my bedroom. I imagine the dry cleaning costs are atrocious. Do you excuse yourself to wash your face? I'm not being mean. I'm just curious.
What's with these fetishes for grown up broads playing the little, lonely girl?
I stick a finger in my mouth and gag. GAG at the thought. Valenti's Purity Myth at example.
And why is everyone in such a hurry to shack up and play house? We're TWENTY TWO. We should be playing the field yo. We should be... we should be just starting our lives. Not settling down. Maybe some of us are more ambitious than others.
Maybe you're happy with your 9 to 5 and your stand up chap, polo wearing boyfriend and all of his pretty stacks of money. And your your lavish, indulgent, healthy parents and your bags and purses and smelly bath soaps you buy over the boarder and charge on credit. You like your life in the Niagara Falls don't you?
I'm being a bitch. I can be that sometimes. It's good to recognize one's own flaws. It's healthy.
I'm also hyper aware of everyone elses.
Lola.
B is for Birth of Christ, I is for Icicle, T is for Tinsel, C is for Candy Cane, H is for Holly
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