Monday, August 16


This is some of the stupidest shit I've ever heard.

Please, woo me with romance novels. I will be incredibly impressed with your cheesy dialogue choices and windswept golden hair. Not to mention sex that is unrealistic and scarily clean.

I've read Palahniuk's (what was that weird word they used? oh, yeah) entire oeuvre. I have also skimmed romance novels with a raised eyebrow. I'll tell you a secret: weird-ass Fertility Hollis seduction is much more likely to work on me than a Harlequin.

Call me and say, "Fuck love. Say something to get me off." I will laugh at you. But for entertainment's sake, I might do it anyway. (We both know it's easy enough.)

Call me and say, "If I'm ever going to do it, this just seems like a good time to kill myself."

Call me and say, "You're not obsese. You're not a whale, but you're too fat for me."

Call me and say, "I called because I wanted to get you off. Tell me what you want me to do. Make me do something terrible."

"Shit," she says. "That's the one I knew you'd pick all along."

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