Making sweet, sweet love to my mozzarella and tomato caprese salad.
It’s obscene, and I’m at work, so I’m going to get fired if these moans get any louder.
I'm the book that beat the speed-reader, and I'm the card the dealers won't touch. And it's just not true I'm a man-eater; all the same, we should probably go dutch.
The things you pick up as you go.
I am frighteningly out of shape. So out of shape, in fact, that I couldn’t make it through my entire usual dance routine to Lil’ Jon & the Eastside Boyz.
I am blaming it on all the sex.
…All the sex, and the cheese-heavy pasta I had for dinner.
Ughhhhhhh cold shower and kill me nowww.
I am having a “scared and alone post-rejection” afternoon.
And thus am eating my feelings.
And watching “The Rebound” and enjoying it entirely too much.
And just typed this to Madison in a fit of over-excitement: “OMG I SHAVE CAHSEWS!!!!”
Translated, that clearly both means, “I have cashews!” and “Dear fucking lord, I need a life and to stop finding nearly sexual gratification in salted nuts, and not the real ones.”