as Pet staring up at me, her eyes begging, moist lips parted, thick muscular thighs splayed, waiting for me to give her another piece of cookie.
Her new diet is that she can only eat sugar if I feed it to her. It’s the best decision I’ve made in quite a while.
Um, have I mentioned how much I would love being fed? Cough cough.
A guy in my cohort sent me a jokey flirty message saying he thought good girls went to bed early.
Dude.
DUDE.
One does not simply joke about bedtime.
Uh, Sir? You been making porn without me?
“We crave permission openly to become our secret selves.” – Salman Rushdie, The Moor’s Last Sigh.
“I have two daughters who have never slept with a man. Let me bring them out to you, and you can do what you like with them.” — Genesis 19:8
Lot was a motherfucker.
No, that’d be Oedipus.
You would tag your own stupid joke as “funny.”
I’ve got a date on Tuesday with a guy who was able to engage me in a long, intelligent text conversation about books. Good books. Actual books. Books written for freaking adults. And Golden Girls. And working out without sounding like a meathead. And he sweetly asked before sending me a picture of his abs because he didn’t want to impose.
Is it Tuesday yet?
(So happy I saved this gif in my drafts. Clearly wishful thinking pays off.)
stop equating commitment with monogamy. stop it
Lana is what Sweetheart wants to be when she’s a big girl.
Um. I am a big girl. Sheesh.
Listen I was nervous and awkward and physically walked behind the bar where the bartenders were and I was like oops just kidding bye guys
