I've Got to Stop Calling Those 1-800 Numbers
Three ;;
A kick to where the sun don't shine and an ice pack later was all it took to get hhim to stop kissing me.
Part of me regreats that ('What the hell were you thinking?! William Beckett was all over you - and he wasn't even getting paid to do it!') while the other side, my feminist side, was giving me kudos and pats on the back ('He doesn't even know who you are and he already wants to go to third base with you. Men are such pigs. Anyways, your sixteen and he's like, what, twenty five? I'm pretty sure that's illiegal').
At least now I've got a great story to tell my grand kids about my first kist. Goodness gracious.
"What the fuck was that for?" William groaned in pain as he tried to stand up off the floor while trying to keep his hold on the ice pack which was now soothing his - ahem, cash and prizes.
"Well, you don't just go attacking people -"
"I didn't attack you! I was just trying to kiss you, and this is how you repay me? A karate kick to my pride and joy? Now, that's just low. A kiss would have been just fine, thank you very much."
I stared at him, mouth open in shock.
"Are you kidding me? Who the fuck comes out of a box and starts trying to rape the first thing that they lay their eyes on? I could have been a defenseless puppy for all you know!"
"Well, duh, obviously you weren't a puppy," he argued, setting the ice pack onto the kitchen counter, "because puppies can't open boxes nor do they piss off the UPS man - seriously, that is like the most dumbest thing you can do. Oh, and anyways, you can't rape the willing so, hah!"
Oh no. Oh no he didn't.
This would be an appropriate time for a saucy comeback and a black girl snap. I don't know how to do the black girl snap. Why didn't mom and dad make me an older sister to teach me how to do the black girl snap?!
I bounced back into reality to see him staring at me.
"What? Stop that," I said frustradedly. One because he's atring at me as if I am a freak and two, because when I get annoyed I get itchy, like, chicken pox itchy. My life is just a ray of motherfucking sunshine.
"Do you always have conversations in your head? It's kinda strange."
This is the worst, I repeat, the worst purchase I have ever made in my life. Maybe I should try selling him on the internet. Is that possible? Wait, I bought a human being on the Home Shopping Network.
Hello Ebay!
Part of me regreats that ('What the hell were you thinking?! William Beckett was all over you - and he wasn't even getting paid to do it!') while the other side, my feminist side, was giving me kudos and pats on the back ('He doesn't even know who you are and he already wants to go to third base with you. Men are such pigs. Anyways, your sixteen and he's like, what, twenty five? I'm pretty sure that's illiegal').
At least now I've got a great story to tell my grand kids about my first kist. Goodness gracious.
"What the fuck was that for?" William groaned in pain as he tried to stand up off the floor while trying to keep his hold on the ice pack which was now soothing his - ahem, cash and prizes.
"Well, you don't just go attacking people -"
"I didn't attack you! I was just trying to kiss you, and this is how you repay me? A karate kick to my pride and joy? Now, that's just low. A kiss would have been just fine, thank you very much."
I stared at him, mouth open in shock.
"Are you kidding me? Who the fuck comes out of a box and starts trying to rape the first thing that they lay their eyes on? I could have been a defenseless puppy for all you know!"
"Well, duh, obviously you weren't a puppy," he argued, setting the ice pack onto the kitchen counter, "because puppies can't open boxes nor do they piss off the UPS man - seriously, that is like the most dumbest thing you can do. Oh, and anyways, you can't rape the willing so, hah!"
Oh no. Oh no he didn't.
This would be an appropriate time for a saucy comeback and a black girl snap. I don't know how to do the black girl snap. Why didn't mom and dad make me an older sister to teach me how to do the black girl snap?!
I bounced back into reality to see him staring at me.
"What? Stop that," I said frustradedly. One because he's atring at me as if I am a freak and two, because when I get annoyed I get itchy, like, chicken pox itchy. My life is just a ray of motherfucking sunshine.
"Do you always have conversations in your head? It's kinda strange."
This is the worst, I repeat, the worst purchase I have ever made in my life. Maybe I should try selling him on the internet. Is that possible? Wait, I bought a human being on the Home Shopping Network.
Hello Ebay!