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AKA pleasure trip, right? More enjoyable when both parties are wearing skimpy swimwear and slathered from head to toe in baby oil. You and I should demonstrate it for the folks to get how great it is . . .
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Isn’t this just another one of your attempts at using reverse psychology, Dearie? You want to keep me all to yourself, so you give other women the impression that there are negatives associated with being with me, and that’s why you publish all of these derogatory inferences. It won’t work, you realize that don’t you? They are lined up around the block and taking numbers to be with me, I’ve got them flying in from faraway cities all over the US and even from foreign countries. The offers to make sandwiches for me overwhelm me, and the offers to accept massages have me booked throughout the end of the year. Alas, my lass, you’re just missing out on your opportunity.
~
Grrrrrrrrrrrr.
You know that there are no throngs of women throwing themselves at me, right? There aren’t even a few of them or a couple of them or not even one of them, you know all that, don’t you? I just live in a fantasy world that exists only in my mind, the dozens of women worldwide vying for fleeting moments with me and crawling all over each other like ants are as imaginary as superheroes or delusions of grandeur. You know all of this yet you don’t mind as long as it keeps me out of Minneapolis and off of your doorstep (or outside your window or following you as you run errands or making a shrine devoted to you from photographs taken with high resolution equipment from thousands of angles over the past five years which are plastered over the walls, ceiling, and floor of the utility room that I’ve converted into your altar of worship). Grrrrrrr.
:(
Livvie 