When I had decided to desecrate my body. You know pierce it somewhere where Mother Theresa wouldn’t find it. My choices were; the clit, the nipples or the belly. The first two were automatically ruled out. Mother Theresa goes with me to all my GYN appointments and the nipples, well, she is always asking me to stand in front of her.
For example, if we are heading to the Cape to see the relatives from the other side of the tracks. The well-bred side. Theresa will pick out the top, make sure it accentuates what she believes my greatest assets to be and then will state, now, Ambien let me see you. Ah, yes, that will do. Your breasts look nice and perky!
Nonetheless, I chose to get the belly button pierced. It seemed the obvious choice. A little advice to those not born a toe head but have a tendency to act in a manner suited to blondish behavior. Always, always, double check to make sure the piercing is put in right side up!
I did not! My one attempt at being an all American rebel and I failed miserably. However, those who know of the diamond stud hanging like a star off a cellulite milky way, have been told I elected to had the piercing done that way. My attempt at being the trailblazer not the follower for once in real time did not happen and simply wasn’t meant to be.
It’s been said, that a non-conformist needs to have some street smarts. With Kate, I had thought I could learn. Her body a stockpile of tattoos from various parts of the world. Her piercings perfectly placed. And, her ‘won’t back down’ tough girl act turned me on. I wanted it. I wanted to be a part of it.
I crumpled with jealousy, however, which is indeed a trait most Avant-Garde professionals hate to see coming!
I love you too even though you talk to Zoey online just to get me jealous you wanna know why I get jealous…is because she is smart and can actually hold a conversation. In all honesty, I wished you’d just message me. I don’t want to stop you from talking to her but…
Being the clueless rebel, I know Kate was having affairs with others. Not just me. That that kind of life was her way and made her who she was; if your cup is full may it be again…
Bullshit if you ask me.
So when the,
And, yes, I liked the sex. But I’m not going to lie. I do want to be with a mature person….spilled from her rebellious lips, I paid no heed.
What could a white bread Ambien laced Trazodone and
Get some jello shots!
Melatonin filled cupcake do?
Go fuck yourself and the sex is no longer an option…How’s that for being a rebel?
Guess I showed her. I sit alone with my fingers and my nasty thoughts. She’s off fuckin’ her wife. Perhaps, there is such a thing as a clueless agitator.
Just wished I hadn’t let her take all those pictures! I suppose I could get Mother Theresa to ask for them back.
