1. Wednesday, July 30, 2003

    clipper girl’s cousin came over last night. 

    party timeshe was trying to be mean to me because i took karisa to coulter’s wedding and not her, but she knew i didnt play that game so she called me and arrived with an apple pie and the dvd of american pie and mischeif in her eye.

    needless to say it helped me not get shut out of july.

    afterwards she accused me of being anti-breast.

    i told her i wasnt anti-breast.

    she asked me why i never really spent much time working the twins and i said i thought a gentleman wasnt supposed to. she said a gentleman was supposed to do whatever the gentlewoman wanted and i said fine, i’ll pay more attention to the zooms.

    these are the biggest issues i have to deal with these days:

    play more with my titties.

    growing up i read a lot of Cosmo. i watched a lot of tv. i listened to women talk.

    most the time i would read that guys would spend too much time on the cans and not enough time kissing or whispering or finding that magic spot.

    “he thinks he’s tuning into a mexican radio station,” the frustrated women would write to Dear Cosmo.

    if a girl had very small breasts i would make sure to work em a little more than i normally would, sorta to say, i know theyre there. theyre fine.

    same would go if a girl had misshapen or scarred ones due to gunshots or plastic surgery: attention would be paid.

    but if a young lady had perfect ones, or big huge ones, typically i would make the rounds and then try to downplay the obvious.

    too often i had heard from women with generous portions that the men in their life would stare at them and be hyptonized and do nothing other than zero in on them.

    im more than just tits, theyd whine.


    i guess sometimes you can outthink yourself.

    thankfully at the root of any good relationship is communication and trust

    and the permission to be felt up.

    raymi + true + chuck + keanu fever