afternoon mcdonalds utility vehicle brisbane full barbeque avocado biscuits bottle shop bundaberg rum cabernet sauvignon chocolate breakfast compensation methylated spirits sandwich sausage spaghetti bolognaise cigarette football garbage collector boxed wine kindergarten kiss politician poker machine registration service station (gas station) sick day cigarette break bottle of beer can of beer sweatpants/tracksuit pants Volkswagen vegetarian u-turn
it sounds like the words little kids make up because the words are still too difficult to pronounce for them
“I don’t believe in love at first sight but I do believe in seeing someone from across the room and knowing instantly that they’re going to matter to you.”—Ryan O’Connell (via theothersideofunderstanding)
Seriously fucking amazing YOU are. thoughts of YOU always make me smile. if only, if only. let me return favourably, please free yourself from denial. I know YOU want me. stop fucking about and let it be. no crown needed here as i see you as queen already.
all women were bigger and stronger than you
and thought they were smarter
women were the ones who started wars
too many of your friends had been raped by women wielding giant dildos
and no K-Y Jelly
the state trooper
who pulled you over on the New Jersey Turnpike
was a woman
and carried a gun
the ability to menstruate
was the prerequisite for most high-paying jobs
your attractiveness to women depended
on the size of your penis
every time women saw you
they’d hoot and make jerking motions with their hands
women were always making jokes
about how ugly penises are
and how bad sperm tastes
you had to explain what’s wrong with your car
to big sweaty women with greasy hands
who stared at your crotch
in a garage where you are surrounded
by posters of naked men with hard-ons
men’s magazines featured cover photos
of 14-year-old boys
tucked into the front of their jeans
and articles like:
“How to tell if your wife is unfaithful”
“What your doctor won’t tell you about your prostate”
“The truth about impotence”
the doctor who examined your prostate
was a woman
and called you “Honey”
you had to inhale your boss’s stale cigar breath
as she insisted that sleeping with her
was part of the job
you couldn’t get away because
the company dress code required
you wear shoes
designed to keep you from running
And what if
after all that
women still wanted you
to love them.
For the Men Who Still Don’t Get It, written 20 years ago by Carol Diehl.
She wrote a post about the history of this poem that is worth reading.
red wine. dark chocolate. self pamper kinda night.
freaking hot half drunk shower. a womanly tidy up. now back to the red sitting naked with a towel on my head.
i love living by myself.
HE has been texting for how many days straight. the premise of every text is he misses me. but i know what he misses. he ain’t hiding it at all. i’ve got the pics to prove it. and he keeps offering the drugs to tempt it. MD you say. pot you say. big black DICK you say.
and where am i. and who am i thinking of?
he may be as hot as fuck. but she’s beautiful. adorable. sweet. and even if i don’t have her. even if i can’t have her. all i still think of is her. all i want is her.
i’m fucked. in the end„ it’s continually destined„ i’m falling for straight girls again…