I find myself really really horny lately. You know: when you can feel the lust in your bloodstream and moving through your veins. You find you stare yourself down in the mirror wanting release. You ache for a hand pressed on your back, holding you close. Another hand caressing the back of your neck. Your hands on a pair of hips and the sweet undulation of sexual communion.
I’m just sayin’.
Just got back from the gym and my manpurse recon. Looks like it’s either gonna be one from Tumi or Banana Repubic. The clincher is it needs to fit my journal so I can take that with me to work. We shall see.
Richard called and wants to go out sometime this week. We’ll see. I know it makes me a cuntly whore but I don’t understand why we still hang out. Maybe I’m too product focused. What is this going to do for me? I have very slim free time in the next few weeks and I have to make every minute count, right? Right! And what is the point of going to dinner with an ex-pseudo-boyfriend to catch up? Catch up on what? I’ll give him a chance though. God help him if he reads this – he’ll think I’m a total bastard. Supposed to go out with Thai Chris this week too. He and I used to date but it didn’t really pan out. Again – why are we going out? I mean, he is good for my ego and is easy on the eyes… I need to stop spending my time on un-necessary people. Ouch. That sounded cold. Yes, kids – I’m a professional asshole evidently. I just don’t see the point. I have enough close friends. I have enough ‘acquaintances.’ Maybe I’m being an elitist snob. Just maybe.
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