Ladies ... lock up your men! T-Bone left last week to work on a pipe-line somewhere around the north pole and he says he wont be back for a few months. Why would I care, you ask? Since he broke my heart back in August? Since August was almost 6 months ago and 6 months surely would be a sufficient amount of time to at least move past the blubbering couch and ice cream phase. Well, I don't care too much for ice cream and 6 months was enough time to move past that phase. But it was also enough time for me to decide that I wanted to keep sleeping with him. 1. Because he's really good in bed. 2. Because I'm a whore. and 3. Because we love each other and don't know what the fuck to do. What does this have to do with locking up your men? Well, I'll tell ya. I have no morals. And apparently no boundaries. Except personal space on elevators, but even then, you give me a few shooters and I'd bend over for anyone in that elevator that asked. Hell, they wouldn't need to ask ... I'd just do it. So T-Bone is gone and I am left on the prowl. Or whatever you call it when a horny 31 year old is out looking to score ... I've always been on the prowl, really. Even just a little bit. Even in my blah-est times in life, I can't be trusted out in public where alcohol and men are present. I discovered this fairly recently while I was in a bathroom stall with a guy 24 year old boy doing shit that made the girls doing the pee-pee dance in line say "holy shit" and "what the fuck?" and even "fucking disgusting". Jealous bitches.
That's all I really have to say about that ... I really thought this would run on a lot longer ... huh!
