I Say Vag A Lot

I'm sitting here all decked out, in a sleepy way. I had another proposed date tonight, but stood up once again. That boy is officially on my shit list. But I'm wearing my best, laciest lingerie, boxers, shirt that all but shows off said lacy bra, and my hair is all wavy and beautiful. I pulled out all the stops for tonight but when he was thirty minutes late I gave up and drove home. Apparently I'm only worth his joke. Aw shucks.

It's got me thinking even more about the relationship bullshit we put ourselves through. Putting so much effort into something that's probably just going to implode somewhere down the line. So I would like to welcome back and introduce you all to Cold, Heartless Bitch Jess. I missed her and I know you'll all love her. She ditched the black pit that was once her heart and only thinks with her vag. And has shittons of fun while she's at it.

I haven't really used my alter ego since moving and damn am I ready for it. I began to a few weeks ago. I'm sure you all remember. Stalker to Jeremiah to Shane, who by the way I need to call. God that boy is just what I need right now. String free boning. Yes please! I stopped using her to try and keep my numbers down. That was a wicked funny celibacy stint, SO glad I kicked that. My vag was becoming quite sick of Fernando. He might be good for a quick fix during a lonely night, but nowhere near as good as the real thing. Batteries only go so far. And obviously doesn't beat me. I would prefer to be bruised up just a tad, please? Haha, sex deprivation is sinking in quickly. I may have to call Shane tomorrow after work. XD

Rantrantrant. I'm just all over the place tonight, and I swear I'm sober. Promise. Pinky swear. Satisfied? Good. Now moral of the story? Always put your vag first. =]