Sunday, April 20, 2008


I was going to write a livid post about life and why on earth do the consequences of procrastination have to be so bloody awful but I changed my mind. My phone just dinged (pronounced like winged) and it was a message from this boy. Anybody who isn't two years older than me is automatically not a man yet.

So it's this pretty boy who I met at this crazy party Thursday night. It was the final leg of the party... after we found the place, after everyone got pretty smashed, after the cops came, after I realized my friend had lost me and after pretty boy returned her to me at Z's place. Thats when pretty boy asked me for my number and I was more taken aback that I gave it to him. I've dated guys like him before and I know he aint my type. Could I be so shameless to give him my number just for the tease of it? The only part that fascinated me at all is the initial chase. Or maybe we women should call it the initial flee. Playing that game is simply regressing to being neanderthal in an innate way.

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