Tuesday, August 4, 2009


Maybe it's the smoldering, come-hither glance.

Maybe it's the staid gravitas.

Maybe it's the smooth, monotonous droning.

Or maybe it's the long, leathery, horse-shaped face.

So ... some?

But whatever it is, ladies, I get it.

I don't blame or judge you. I know exactly what you're going through right now. The excitement, the palpitations, the yearning.

The urgent need to be vigorously "filibustered."

I get it.

I even agree with it.

Because ... right now ... if he asked me ... I think I just might let him.

I feel ... vulnerable.

And I like it.

Till next we meet ...

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