who doesnt love chicken? she doesnt. not only a virgin but a vegan. a virgan. a vegin. she puts no meat in her mouth america. none. i was lucky to get my tounge in there. she had a cute spaghetti strap shirt on that said i eat nothing with a face and i argued that i dont have much of a face any more, just bored expressions. she had mercy on me. now, how that got her to spend the night is beyond me but we slept tangled like dna strands but my blue balls have never been so blue. but i report to you from the front that a sleepover date with a vegin is better than no date at all. and even though my fantasy baseball reliever just gave up a two run homer in the bottom of the ninth i have a stupid smile and reason to believe.
the day started off right when i finally opened my week’s mail around noon after breakfast. there was an expense check that i had forgotten that i had submitted, there was a book from a very nice forgeiner who asked to remain anonymous but swedish princesses deserve their privacy so there you go baby, and then i got a small package from one of my favorite people who sent me the new white stripes cd get behind me satan and the new frank black cd honeycomb.
ive gotta open my mail more often.
sadly i saw an invoice from my dentist. and im 60 days past due! for some reason i thought they were tapping into my credit card each month. i told them that it was cool to do that since i didnt know when i was gonna be back there, but i guess there were some extra charges or something? whatev, hes got a good place there so the checks in the mail doc.
three stamps i must get tomorrow morning.
did as much as i could with a virgan after breakfast and she pulled out this stinky green bud that i was all whoah baby whered a pretty little girl like you get something as crazy as that? it was dark green with crazy little purple hairs and shades of yellow near its core which sparkled in the morning light.
people like to give me things she giggled and dug through her bag for a pipe and pulled out this shiny silver lipstick thing that turned into a smoking device. she packed it, swiped the lighter next to the candle and offered me the first hit but i passed since i thinking im going to probably get drug tested at this company i applied for. office depot doesnt accept druggies i told her.
instead i licked her cute little perky nipple and said thats how you get high off life baby and my head sunk down due to gravity i swear and entered a sweet darkness that no man has ever reached and i was there for a milisecond as she was distracted with her paraphenalia and had no free hands to defend her bunker and i searched for a whiff of innocence but thats the funny thing about aromas, sometimes pot smoking angels have none
not even when they pass out on the couch before the sixth inning in front of the cubs sox game on the big screen
a game the cubs would barely win thanks to the complete game effort of mr mark prior who probably doesnt smell like chicken soup which is my aroma currently as its hot in this bungalow at two twenty six on may twenty second i have no ac no ceiling fan no nothing except a scientificly adjusted assortment of windows and doors some of which are open to allow in the shade-cooled air to enter, and some which are closed to stop the bright sun-warmed air to come in.
but even though its warm she sleeps beneath a mexican blanket not at all knowing that pizza pie has been delivered with her favorite toppings and even though mine has double, obviously, her half has no cheese.