I'm so sweet. If you ever met me, you'd think so, too. Everyone does. I'm nice and sweet and cute and loving. I'm nurturing and funny and agreeable and kind. So you may be shocked to get a glimpse of what is really going on in my noggin.
Top 5 crass things I've written in my journal in July:
- "I wish he would get here already and save me from this moment with this Bob jackass so I'm not in the fucking line of fire. No I don't want to give you my number. How old are you? How old do you think I am?!"
-- at the café waiting for a friend
- "The trick with the stock market is to pull out before they take anything. This is also true in the bedroom."
- "How will I prepare for meeting up with him? Why did I ever even agree to meet him? Aren't we done? ... I'll just be the light. I'll radiate the light. I'll be the most fucking radiant thing he's ever seen... And be effing done with it."
-- on meeting up with a fling that didn't ever really make it beyond fling status.
- "I have to deal with the collection of crap under my bed. Find whatever I can to sell at this yard sale. Making money is dirty business."
- He emails me. I email him back. He texts me. I text him back. He emails me again... fuck dude, take your balls out of your purse, strap them on and ask me out fer fuck sakes.
Sundance Kid: Hey, what are you doin'?
Butch Cassidy: Stealin' your woman.
Sundance Kid: [pause] Take her.