I used to date a knockout of a little redhead, who loved to get all dolled up and walk unescorted into a bar. She'd seat herself, and start "attracting" attention. She'd get a few guys talking her up and buying her drinks. Then after a half hour, or so, I'd walk in, looking scruffy wearing an old OD green military field jacket, faded out jeans, flannel shirt, and sporting a three day growth of facial hair. I'd find a table, sit down, order a beer and just keep to myself. She would then "notice" me, sluff off her would be paramours, and come to sit at my table, where I would be as lackadaisical about her presence as possible. She'd buy me drinks, and come on to me hardcore. I'd be as disinterested as could be. Meanwhile, her "suitors" are taking all of this in, in utter disbelief. After about an hour or so, I'd turn to her ask her if she wanted to go fuck. She'd acquiesce, whereby I'd take her arm and walk her out of the bar, whilst her fan club would stand slack jawed. I miss her...sometimes. Gorgeous woman. Just not...wired quite right, if you know what I mean.
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"I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires." - Susan B. Anthony
"Hedonism with rules isn't hedonism at all, it's the Republican party." - JumpinJesus
It is indisputable that true beauty lies within...but a nice rack sure doesn't hurt.
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