Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The funny thing about love is the way it enjoys anal.
Seriously, love will sneak up behind you and jam it's dry, 9 inch rod in your ass.
If you take a look back at my life (it's in the semen stained VHS case next to Babes in Boyland), you would notice a pattern of bad decisions, that I can always link back to a man. And one time a woman.
I attract domineering men. Conquering a lady like me is a challenge to some. Then it's a game. I want to win the game, so I'm all in. Immediately. I've got 8200 in chips and they are all on red. Fast, hard, hot and heavy love. Like your first high. Like 160 in a new camaro. Like your first orgasm. It will never be that good ever again. You will be chasing the dragon for the remainder of your relationship.
You're winning, buying round after round, having a great time, then BAM. Wrong hole, love!
That one straw. It dropped and the camel is fucked. You're also fucked.
I have acted crazy over relationships, not because of deep feelings for another human being, but because of my fear of loss. I mean losing the game. Defeat. I do not take it well.
When I hear a Lifetime wife beater say "if I can't have you, no one will" I can relate. He's got it right there. If you aren't going to be mine, you're damn well not going to be anyone Else's either.
I've burned clothing, smashed a windshield with my easel, broke into an exes apartment, slandered and most likely libeled as well. I have poor decision making skills. And love brings out the worst in me.
I blame public schools. And the boys I slept with while I was there.