Nomadic Living for the Modern Girl
I'm going to invent some wacky creation that allows me to carry everything I need for two days of regular life without looking like a crazy bag lady. After my forth date with Mr. Bubble in 12 days, My shoulder is about to give out from carrying a messenger bag brimming with clothing, lube, condoms, toys, toiletries, and other assorted necessities. Probably the only downside to being a hussy versus being a girlfriend is that you have no place to leave your shit.
Due to what is clearly all-consuming ADD, Mr. Bubble never lets me know that he wants to see me in advance. I don't mind, of course, as I rather hate planned outings, and almost always bail at the last second anyway. The unfortunate part of it all is that I have to haul all the things I need to function way down into the depths of Virginia every three or four days. Then, of course, all those things have to make back home with me. Or worse, back to work with me as they did on Friday morning. Nothing like a walk of shame that lasts 13 hours.
That being said, I really like this one. Thanks to the miracle of human chemistry, I never know why I enjoy the company of those I like so much. They're all so different, with such a spectrum of styles and tastes.
I like Mr. Bubble because this boy knows about more delicious food than anyone I have ever met. Every time I see him, we eat no less than four meals. This last 24-hour date included trips to four different grocery stores and two restaurants. And he made me breakfast this morning. Also, even though he's 30, he frequently looks just like a little boy because there is so much excitement in his facial expressions and his eyes are so damn big. He smiles all the time, and laughs and sings and calls me Sweetpea. Normally all this cuteness would make me want to wretch, but with him, it's not so. We've discussed our mutual ethical sluttiness, and we also have dirty, dirty sex. Honestly, I can't ask for much more in a boy than good fucking and good food.
Since I've been spending 50% of my time working, 30% with Mr. Bubble and the remaining 20% on the fucking Metro, I've successfully avoided The Roommate, The Friend of a Friend, and my best friend for more than a week. Oh, and I also slept with The Volunteer on Tuesday after a 2 month hiatus. That helped. Holy shit. I've been getting more ass than a bus seat lately.
Due to what is clearly all-consuming ADD, Mr. Bubble never lets me know that he wants to see me in advance. I don't mind, of course, as I rather hate planned outings, and almost always bail at the last second anyway. The unfortunate part of it all is that I have to haul all the things I need to function way down into the depths of Virginia every three or four days. Then, of course, all those things have to make back home with me. Or worse, back to work with me as they did on Friday morning. Nothing like a walk of shame that lasts 13 hours.
That being said, I really like this one. Thanks to the miracle of human chemistry, I never know why I enjoy the company of those I like so much. They're all so different, with such a spectrum of styles and tastes.
I like Mr. Bubble because this boy knows about more delicious food than anyone I have ever met. Every time I see him, we eat no less than four meals. This last 24-hour date included trips to four different grocery stores and two restaurants. And he made me breakfast this morning. Also, even though he's 30, he frequently looks just like a little boy because there is so much excitement in his facial expressions and his eyes are so damn big. He smiles all the time, and laughs and sings and calls me Sweetpea. Normally all this cuteness would make me want to wretch, but with him, it's not so. We've discussed our mutual ethical sluttiness, and we also have dirty, dirty sex. Honestly, I can't ask for much more in a boy than good fucking and good food.
Since I've been spending 50% of my time working, 30% with Mr. Bubble and the remaining 20% on the fucking Metro, I've successfully avoided The Roommate, The Friend of a Friend, and my best friend for more than a week. Oh, and I also slept with The Volunteer on Tuesday after a 2 month hiatus. That helped. Holy shit. I've been getting more ass than a bus seat lately.
posted by The Husskateer at 7:26 PM
1 Comments:
If only the backpack sported in "Troop Beverly Hills" were a reality...
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