and since he's so incredibly not the guy who reads backlog, i have pretty much wasted all this time that i could have been saying anything i damn well felt like. not that i don't usually, but the fact that i know he won't see this makes it feel more exciting. like burger king bathroom sex.
and now, in the spirit of this uncensored bloggery...
i once broke up with a guy once we had um, "consumated" the relationship because i realized i didn't really like him. at all. i just needed to get laid. twice. (i was 18! and possibly somewhat slutty... but i swear i've really changed. now i'm tarty. and 25.) it wasn't that good, so most of the time i cannot remember his name. jimmy, maybe? johnny? joey? i think this means i'm a bad person.
i once began a sexual relationship with a boy predicated solely on his ability to sing "superstitious" at tuesday night karaoke. oddly, he also sang "chocolate salted balls." and quite well.
i have (twice) used Boy's beard trimmer for other purposes.
when i make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner i line them up to bake in rows of four. sometimes i eat one before i let Boy know dinner's ready, but then because i don't want him to see i already ate one, i eat the whole row.
now what does it say about me that the meatball thing is the one i'm most ashamed of?
shut up, jungy mcfreudypants. it says i like meatballs. that's all.
* thank goodness it's the day before yom kippur. i must go atone now. as you can imagine, this might take a while.
see you friday.