Wednesday, December 19, 2001
Look Me in the Eyes and Say It
"Biiiiitch and moan . . . biiiiiitch and moan, there's a mountain flowing bitch and mooooooan." Mom
I'm totally depressed. Out of a bazillion or some-odd personals, I've encountered two people who have been on the "more" end of "more or less worth my time." And of those two individuals, I have actually MET one. In real live person time.
He was four inches shorter than he'd said, two hours later, had ears that could get him a job as a radar receiver, and only looked me in the eye three times during our three-hour date.
That's once an hour.
That's frightening.
Did I have something stuck in my teeth? Was it the sixth nostril that turned you off? Perhaps the lip plate? I MUST KNOW!
Am I eternally damned to the hell known as Singledom?
Maybe the lucky ones in the upper Upper-Floors of the Personals Tower could do me a favor and FIND ME A RAWKIN' HUMAN! I'm perilously close to giving up on flesh-and-blood love and opting out for a kinder, gentler, smoother, battery-operated love. I'm not sure if this qualifies as "Dirt," but, it's grainy, messy, gets stuck under your fingernails and is ultimately very unpleasant.
BR
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