09-15-2017, 01:11 PM
There'are too many beauty. Like my joke-thing with the 18 year old virgins. Of course only one is going to be fool enough to take me up on my offer, and be the dame I'm going to be with the rest of my life. But that beauty is not tied to any building. I could be tied to a scene in Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey into Night, and she could be tied to a scene from Alice's Diner. Or I could have an ALF lunchbox, and she could be gibly over-buying a Bill Goldberg sweatshirt/hoody from the Goodwill, but if we get along . . .
And I'm basing this on real life, so I hope she never finds out about this site. Because I've already worked hard enough getting her; I don't need to spend the next six years explaining things.
When she showed up in her Bill Goldberg sweatshirt from the Goodwill, I came this close to mentioning Flyin' Brian Pillman, and Stunnin' Steve Austin. Then I was going to bend into Rabelais and Cervantes, and then ask her out to Pizza Hut and say about Beatrice and Dante, and push Shelley and Mallarme into the getting laid conversation. Then I woke up.
And we were still talking fake stuff. And then I mentioned how my granddad, and how he was born on a native american reservation. And how he met the guy who played Billy Jack. And he's dead now. And wasn't native american, and how that's so ratched.
I admit, I said there were several 18 year old girls I was squeevy over. But there is only one. And she used the word clutch to describe me. And I thought that was really super lame, but if she means that as a compliment, who am I to say I wouldn't be good for her?
Glibly-overbuying is what I meant to write. So I fucked this relationship-understanding over already. But hopefully she neer see this site ever, and least before I figure out how to explain things.
And I'm basing this on real life, so I hope she never finds out about this site. Because I've already worked hard enough getting her; I don't need to spend the next six years explaining things.
When she showed up in her Bill Goldberg sweatshirt from the Goodwill, I came this close to mentioning Flyin' Brian Pillman, and Stunnin' Steve Austin. Then I was going to bend into Rabelais and Cervantes, and then ask her out to Pizza Hut and say about Beatrice and Dante, and push Shelley and Mallarme into the getting laid conversation. Then I woke up.
And we were still talking fake stuff. And then I mentioned how my granddad, and how he was born on a native american reservation. And how he met the guy who played Billy Jack. And he's dead now. And wasn't native american, and how that's so ratched.
I admit, I said there were several 18 year old girls I was squeevy over. But there is only one. And she used the word clutch to describe me. And I thought that was really super lame, but if she means that as a compliment, who am I to say I wouldn't be good for her?
Glibly-overbuying is what I meant to write. So I fucked this relationship-understanding over already. But hopefully she neer see this site ever, and least before I figure out how to explain things.