Menses just commenced. It's 1:14 AM. I was asleep. That felt good. At 12:24, I popped up. I think I'm awake, maybe awakeish is more accurate. I'm always surprised when those handy-soapy-foamy-bottles run out of soap. For some lame ass reason, it never occurs to me that they ever will. They feel so lifetime supply , even though the bottles aren't more than 8 inches tall. Similarly, when I flip on a light switch and the light flickers to its death, I think "Now what?" Duh, schmuckette, you change the fucking light bulb . Intellectually, I know this, yet for some odd reason, it never comes to mind. In fact, a few years ago, my mother walked into my house and said, "Why aren't the lights working?" I said "I don't know, I flick the switch and they don't work." After a fit of uproarious laughter, she said, "Would it kill you to change the light bulb?” Hmmm. "No", I shamefully responded. I wonder why... it is that I hav...
names (off the top of my head) of men I would never fuck.
Comments
I had carnal knowledge of an 'Aphrodite' once.
Olympia indeed.
What is the BJ list?
Or get impaled on a Lance?
Be lascivious with Leviticus?
Go jaw-agape at Agapito's peeny?
Let Deepnita go deep into ya?
Have Winthrope withdraw?
I guess Dick is fucked, then.
I thought Bartholomew and Leonard were pretty popular jewish names, hon? Sure about that?
"...This tastes good! I'll smoke that later..." and the rest was history.