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Are you noir to the bone?



You sultry, little cynic, you.

Posted - June 9, 2019

Responses


  • 44649
    No, just an average old white guy.
      June 9, 2019 12:23 PM MDT
    3

  • Eh, you're kinda nerdy-cool so don't sell yourself short. 
      June 9, 2019 12:24 PM MDT
    3

  • 469
    Yeah, don't sell yourself short.  I bet you're hawt and don't even know it. This post was edited by Natz at June 10, 2019 1:33 PM MDT
      June 9, 2019 12:32 PM MDT
    2

  • 44649
    20 years ago, maybe.
      June 10, 2019 1:34 PM MDT
    2

  • 469
    I am Pinot Noir to the bone.  Got any leftover pizza?  It'll go great with my wine! This post was edited by Natz at June 10, 2019 7:22 AM MDT
      June 9, 2019 12:25 PM MDT
    3

  • 44649
    And a doob?
      June 9, 2019 12:26 PM MDT
    1

  • Party favors are most welcome. 
      June 9, 2019 12:30 PM MDT
    2

  • 469
    No doob for me, but please feel free to join me tonight in some wine and leftover pizza.  I only hope Lenina has some leftover.
      June 9, 2019 12:30 PM MDT
    3

  • Heck yeah, we'll just eat the pizza cold, out of the box accompanied by pinot in Styrofoam cups. We're two classy chicks!
      June 9, 2019 12:33 PM MDT
    3

  • 469
    Got that right!  Not only are we classy, but we are goddesses.  
      June 9, 2019 12:35 PM MDT
    3

  • *as the darkness breaks as he draws the fliickering wooden  match to his Lucky Strike.  The shadowy figure in a dime store suite and tan fedora speaks.
    What brings a dame like you around a place like this? This post was edited by Benedict Arnold at June 10, 2019 1:35 PM MDT
      June 9, 2019 8:18 PM MDT
    2

  • A dame only comes to joint like this for one reason. Gino tells me you're the guy to see. Now are you in or are you out, tough guy?
      June 9, 2019 8:50 PM MDT
    3

  • Can it toots.   We all know were following you leads a man.You're nothing but cyanide in a black dress and red pumps.
      June 10, 2019 6:16 AM MDT
    2

  •   June 10, 2019 7:33 AM MDT
    1

  • 53524



      There were two things I knew immediately as soon as I first laid eyes on her: one, she was Trouble with a capital T, the exact kind of trouble that a guy like me was a sucker for, the exact kind of trouble a guy like me needed to avoid, the kind of trouble a guy like me would only end up regretting in the end, and two, I could no more avoid her than I could avoid breathing. It's an involuntary function, you know. I'm talking about breathing. We do it whether we want to or not. Even if or when we tried to hold our breath as little kids, our bodies wouldn't let us do it. Such a foolish feat. Yes, that's what happened when I saw her: foolishly, I told myself that it wasn't going to happen this time, that I'd just ignore her.  Involuntarily, someone introduced me to her by saying, "Good evening, I'm Randall, a private detective.  I believe you're looking to speak with me, and if you're not, you'd better be, because I'm not going to let you walk away just like that."  Wait, that was me doing the introduction, what do ya know? Hmmmm, I suckered myself all on my lonesome . . .


    ~
      June 9, 2019 11:52 PM MDT
    4

  •   June 10, 2019 7:34 AM MDT
    1