...cocktease in italian: una ragazza che provoca ma non conclude
...bocchinara in english: a woman who likes to give blowjobs
Languages are beautiful, no?
30 June 2004
29 June 2004
Role Reversal
In that drugged-out post-fuckfest haze, some time after you've caught your breath and right before you roll over and pass out, is apparently the Time to Discuss 'Us' And Related Important Issues.
Stereotypes of hetro couplings would leave one to believe that the One Wishing to Just Pass the Fuck Out would be the pecker possessor and the But What Do You Feel About Foo instigator would be the estrogenically gifted half.
Apparently not.
Discussions fishing for feelings and commitment and other touchy-feely tripe are ranked very high on my List of Discussions Not to Be Had While Naked*. Really, darling, you've just fucked me six ways till Sunday and ensured that walking will be rather uncomfortable for the next few days; I find it astounding that you still have the energy left to attempt to fuck with my mind.
From where stems this insane post-coital need to discuss and dissect a relationship RIGHT NOW?
Why oh why can't you just drop it and let me fall asleep for Christ's sake. Hell, I'll even sleep on the wet spot. Just. Let. Me. Sleep.
*Other Discussions Not to Be Had While Naked:
Stereotypes of hetro couplings would leave one to believe that the One Wishing to Just Pass the Fuck Out would be the pecker possessor and the But What Do You Feel About Foo instigator would be the estrogenically gifted half.
Apparently not.
Discussions fishing for feelings and commitment and other touchy-feely tripe are ranked very high on my List of Discussions Not to Be Had While Naked*. Really, darling, you've just fucked me six ways till Sunday and ensured that walking will be rather uncomfortable for the next few days; I find it astounding that you still have the energy left to attempt to fuck with my mind.
From where stems this insane post-coital need to discuss and dissect a relationship RIGHT NOW?
Why oh why can't you just drop it and let me fall asleep for Christ's sake. Hell, I'll even sleep on the wet spot. Just. Let. Me. Sleep.
*Other Discussions Not to Be Had While Naked:
- My doctor is worried about my T-Cell count
- Your mother has the same g-string
- My mother has the same g-string
- My father has the same g-string...
- ...and it looks a lot better on him
- That home porn we filmed? My best friend loved it.
- What do you mean "What home porn"? Did I say home porn? I meant "rome horn"...
- anything involving German Shepards, Vaseline, midgets, latex, ferrets, silly string and a few handfuls of ball bearings
25 June 2004
23 June 2004
The Agony of Defeat...
is slightly lessened by the fact that we are still the prettiest. Yes we are. Oh dear. This is my new desktop wallpaper.
More footie beefcake - Grazie Matteo!
More footie beefcake - Grazie Matteo!
17 June 2004
Devi fare sempre il divo, coglione...
You bloody immature fecking idjit.
Just when I was starting to think you might be maturing as a player, you pull a diva-ish stunt like this to the possible detriment of the team.
You will never, ever be the same class as Zidane, no matter how talented you might be.
And the next time I see you at a restaraunt or disco, you better have ScotchGuarded those tacky coatti togs you sport as I fully plan to dump the contents of my glass over your head.
Scratch that. You aren't worth the waste of alcohol
Just when I was starting to think you might be maturing as a player, you pull a diva-ish stunt like this to the possible detriment of the team.
You will never, ever be the same class as Zidane, no matter how talented you might be.
Scratch that. You aren't worth the waste of alcohol
14 June 2004
12 June 2004
How Does One List "Professional Cocktease" on One's CV?
Time: Friday Night
Place: Work Conference Welcoming Cocktail Party
Caravaning in three cars, we manage to get ourselves and all of our transportation-challenged colleagues out to the party venue with some room to spare. Mr. Boink Buddy rode with our boss, whether out of fear that I'd rip him a new asshole if he came within 2 feet of me or what, who knows.
As the Best Girlfriend & I have a reputation to maintain at these conferences, I was sporting the white pleather pants, studded belt, 4 inch stilettos, and enough cleavage in which I could feasibly lose at least a few dessert spoons.
Fine, a dessert spoon. It was enough.
Place: Work Conference Welcoming Cocktail Party
Caravaning in three cars, we manage to get ourselves and all of our transportation-challenged colleagues out to the party venue with some room to spare. Mr. Boink Buddy rode with our boss, whether out of fear that I'd rip him a new asshole if he came within 2 feet of me or what, who knows.
As the Best Girlfriend & I have a reputation to maintain at these conferences, I was sporting the white pleather pants, studded belt, 4 inch stilettos, and enough cleavage in which I could feasibly lose at least a few dessert spoons.
Fine, a dessert spoon. It was enough.
04 June 2004
The helicopters are starting to piss me off and it's only 4pm
It's slightly nuts here. The helicopters and sirens have been going off since yesterday night, only to get worse as the protesters make their way through the city. Bush go home indeed. Unfortunately the little fucker is here until noonish tomorrow.
02 June 2004
Life is Weird
Deeply weird.
So I've been shockingly remiss in updates here, but I haven't really felt the urge to verbally exsanguinate on the foibles and follies of my life. Too busy trying to get my head around them, I guess. Lucky you, I have a few spare minutes to sum up recent and not so recent events while I wait for a website to finish downloading.
Flash back to December if you will, 6 months into yet another interminable period of dating the Energizer Bunny. *Does the old school Wayne's World hand wavy thing*
My ex-fiance (hereby affectionately known as the Enemy, Destroyer of Queens, Angel of Broken Hearts, Great Beast that is called Weasel, Prince of Thieving Bastards, Father of Liars, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Mindgames. Or Shithead for short) sent me yet another text message. Like clockwork, every 3-4 months the little fucker tries some way of contacting me, supposedly with the intent of "being friends." And then he acts all confused and hurt when I, in various ways, express that I don't want to be friends, fuckwit, because you dumped my ass in one of the most painful ways humanly possible three years ago.
Come to think of it, if he had pulled an Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom and ripped my still beating heart out with his bare hands and thrown it under the passing traffic, it probably would have hurt less.
So I've been shockingly remiss in updates here, but I haven't really felt the urge to verbally exsanguinate on the foibles and follies of my life. Too busy trying to get my head around them, I guess. Lucky you, I have a few spare minutes to sum up recent and not so recent events while I wait for a website to finish downloading.
Flash back to December if you will, 6 months into yet another interminable period of dating the Energizer Bunny. *Does the old school Wayne's World hand wavy thing*
My ex-fiance (hereby affectionately known as the Enemy, Destroyer of Queens, Angel of Broken Hearts, Great Beast that is called Weasel, Prince of Thieving Bastards, Father of Liars, Spawn of Satan and Lord of Mindgames. Or Shithead for short) sent me yet another text message. Like clockwork, every 3-4 months the little fucker tries some way of contacting me, supposedly with the intent of "being friends." And then he acts all confused and hurt when I, in various ways, express that I don't want to be friends, fuckwit, because you dumped my ass in one of the most painful ways humanly possible three years ago.
Come to think of it, if he had pulled an Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom and ripped my still beating heart out with his bare hands and thrown it under the passing traffic, it probably would have hurt less.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)