if your fingers smell of nineteen yr old danish pussy?
our girl, just like many have, asked me for the millionth time how old i am today and today i told her and today she put her skirt back on, found her bra and blouse, put them back on, and left my apartment probably never to return again.
i knew that if i told her the truth it would be over.
probably because i really liked her.
sux cuz this morning i was giddy from last night, thankful that i didnt have to work, and totally excited to see the foreign cheerleader coach who was still in town indefinately due to one of her students being incarcerated for shoplifting at target.
everything in this is true.
i dont know what to think of this girl.
so cute. doesnt really talk to me, but some of the things she says are great.
seemed to like to make out but
anyhow, there we were naked and suddenly she wants to stop because its killing her that she doesnt know my age.
it’s just a number.
i tell that to the people at work who freak at the aged girls i go out with, sometimes. agists i scream.
is it the girl’s fault that she’s legal?
is it my fault that i was born in the seventeenth century?
i dont hold it against karisa that she has a funny accent and webbed toes, i dont hold it against chris that shes got huge bazooms and only seven channels on her tv, i dont hold it against anna that she hasnt won a tournament, and they dont hold it against me that im so damn good looking.
you win some and lose some. this spring ive lost more than normal, but ive also won more than normal too, i suppose.
chris came over to cheer me up. she kissed me on the lips and told me i was handsome.
she said my hair looks cute.
then she drove us to kfc, then went on a date.
laurita cheered me up too and withstood all the pictures i showed her, then she went out on the town.
i think im getting hbo free.
i think i’ll watch it.