So I will tell you what I will be doing right now (not in order):
- Smoke a bowl of gifted pot (gifted because I said I was trying to detox when the reality might be that I'm trying to save money, so I'll just mooch some off my friends.
- I have officially become a mooch after years of hating mooches.
- Perhaps I'll take a shower.
- Perhaps I'll do Pilates.
- Smoke another bowl.
- I even might hook up with the Booty Call for dinner and a movie.
Now this is exactly why it is dangerous to be bored and listless without any possible masculine entertainment in the visible horizon. I recur to the Booty Call or he recurs to me. Someone will text the other one, or send a funny picture or just mention it in passing, 'I miss you' and then the fucking cycle is back and we both end up worse for the wear. Completely compatibly incompatible if that makes any sense whatsoever.
The Frenchman showed back up on the scene this very morning. A nice round of Skype sex and I'm good to go for a long long, well for a bit anyways. He's cute. We talk about serious business after he 'ejaculates'. I'm still nude on my bed, a content smile gracing my lips.
Would it make me the most evil of bitches if I mention that The Musician might be demoted to the nice musician that I've been on a few pleasant dates with but for whom I feel perhaps 25% attraction to. Ok, I lie. There are moments when that 25% surges to maybe 50%, but his insecurity pushes it back to 25%. He's ever so quiet. Sometimes we don't understand each other's sense of humor and it gets awkward. I laugh too hard, I try too hard, I want too much, I expect too much.
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