so, i'll mosey upstairs and get in line and walk the gauntlet of people armed with dumb stares and sandwiches. i'll ignore them. blurry up their faces. throw in a cough and sneeze...to assure my personal f*cken space...
i've been belching up a storm. a year's worth of bullshit...a week's worth of fake lust. you've inspired me to buy a vibrator. this way, there's no mistake.
about how lame brooks is, and how you never have to ask a girl if she's sensual - she listens to bjork...
i was never a metal hook up bra kind of girl.
i can't quite play dumb
when you're fumbling for my vagina
while my pants are still on...
no question about it. i am good with a gun. somehow this didn't surprise one of my longtime friends. somehow, it doesn't surprise me anymore...
oh how they always want perfection
when rarely, they seldom are...