To My Coy Mistress -By SSGT. Dave
Current mood: pleased
Staff Sergeant Dave opines on the rotten fruit of love's labor.
Mrs. Right is out there waiting for me. She's chain smoking in an abortion clinic, in the shitty end of some big city, acting like she doesn't have insurance to get the state subsidized mistake eraser. Sitting there, that sad "how could he do this to me?" look on her face, arms crossed over her ample chest, heart open for a kind, caring, giving guy like me...
Let her wait. I'm not done playing yet.
The world is full of emotionally unstable women who'll do anything to fill whatever hole in their lives is emptiest at the moment. Luckily for them, we're here, the sick fucks who recognize the tender innocence of wayward college freshmen, the physical insecurities of twenty-somethings, and the raging self esteem problems of single 30ish women. If she's chunky, she thinks she's fat, and if we tell her she's not we're lying...and going to get laid. Pretty easily.
In the world of colorful neurosis, there are two fundamental groups of emotionally unbalanced women: delusional, and dangerous. The first are the easiest targets: they think they're fat when they're not, or they think they're ugly when they're only a dark room and a paper bag away from being passable. Their need is emotional security. All you have to do is exploit their weakness like Scar Face staring down a rookie coke dealer, and soon you'll be rolling.
The dangerous ones are more fun: they're the kind that want to fuck you dry one minute, and ignore you the next. This is perfect for Sunday afternoons: vicious Special Forces sex, then time to watch DEADWOOD...while she steals your shit. They're the wily type who play hard to get, hard to pin down, then hard to get rid of, but taming these putas is worth it. You both know you're not going to spend any significant amount of life together: she's crazy, and she knows it. So enjoy the moment. No matter what she says, that's all she wants too.
Crazy chics have it over normal ones any day. Do a line off a hooker's thong while she gobbles you from below and you'll know why churchy girls have nothing better to do on Sunday mornings than go to mass. The crazy ones are asleep on bare mattresses out there, dreaming of ball gags and impossible penetration. They're waiting, just like Mrs. Right, for that one special guy who seems to understand them, who they can open themselves up to physically, who can fill that aching hole in their lives.
I suggest you fill two or three. Just make sure to kick 'em out before they clip your stash.
Never the last man off the Blackhawk,
- Ssgt. Dave
Current mood: pleased
Staff Sergeant Dave opines on the rotten fruit of love's labor.
Mrs. Right is out there waiting for me. She's chain smoking in an abortion clinic, in the shitty end of some big city, acting like she doesn't have insurance to get the state subsidized mistake eraser. Sitting there, that sad "how could he do this to me?" look on her face, arms crossed over her ample chest, heart open for a kind, caring, giving guy like me...
Let her wait. I'm not done playing yet.
The world is full of emotionally unstable women who'll do anything to fill whatever hole in their lives is emptiest at the moment. Luckily for them, we're here, the sick fucks who recognize the tender innocence of wayward college freshmen, the physical insecurities of twenty-somethings, and the raging self esteem problems of single 30ish women. If she's chunky, she thinks she's fat, and if we tell her she's not we're lying...and going to get laid. Pretty easily.
In the world of colorful neurosis, there are two fundamental groups of emotionally unbalanced women: delusional, and dangerous. The first are the easiest targets: they think they're fat when they're not, or they think they're ugly when they're only a dark room and a paper bag away from being passable. Their need is emotional security. All you have to do is exploit their weakness like Scar Face staring down a rookie coke dealer, and soon you'll be rolling.
The dangerous ones are more fun: they're the kind that want to fuck you dry one minute, and ignore you the next. This is perfect for Sunday afternoons: vicious Special Forces sex, then time to watch DEADWOOD...while she steals your shit. They're the wily type who play hard to get, hard to pin down, then hard to get rid of, but taming these putas is worth it. You both know you're not going to spend any significant amount of life together: she's crazy, and she knows it. So enjoy the moment. No matter what she says, that's all she wants too.
Crazy chics have it over normal ones any day. Do a line off a hooker's thong while she gobbles you from below and you'll know why churchy girls have nothing better to do on Sunday mornings than go to mass. The crazy ones are asleep on bare mattresses out there, dreaming of ball gags and impossible penetration. They're waiting, just like Mrs. Right, for that one special guy who seems to understand them, who they can open themselves up to physically, who can fill that aching hole in their lives.
I suggest you fill two or three. Just make sure to kick 'em out before they clip your stash.
Never the last man off the Blackhawk,
- Ssgt. Dave
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
I love dayglos too, they come to montreal all the time! I miss the west coast too though..the jaks damn you know, I don't know, but I wouldnt doubt it.
Bonehead on the other hand...what an amazing fucking triamphant dude.
[Edited on May 01, 2005 8:58AM]
im drunk again xsuce me