What’s love got to do with it?

There’s a man on my sofa! An odd one in an Ed Hardy T-shirt, a baseball cap and ripped jeans. He’s fast asleep so i guess the right thing to do would be to take advantage of him, feel him up, steal his wallet. Yet for now, i’m just gonna pour left over beer on him to wake him up. How dare he litter my sofa, with his drunken mess of an aura. He’s a bit hot. I’ve hit him and he hasn’t woken up, therefore i don’t think much else would be working anyway. (Winky wink.)

So at 4am this morning, there was a giant knock on my door. Like one of those that all the boys say sounds like a ‘cop.’ I rose from my chambers, (i was naked with 2 kittens sleeping upon me) and glided towards the window to spy on the noisy nonsense. I saw nothing, so i placed on my peach robe and fluttered down the stairs to go answer the door. (Most people would just ignore it right. Yet i couldn’t resist the fact that it could be my Prince Charming all drunk and…well just drunk.)

I open the door, and in pours ‘Ed Hardy t-shirt,’ who has now calmed the fuck down. It’s weird how when boys are on a mission, they are all ‘thunder’ and angry knocks, with boners a throbbing. Yet when ‘girl with boobies’ is delicately presented to them, then immediately turn all quiet smiles and coy ‘Hi’s.’ (Yet still with boners throbbing.) I know ‘Ed Hardy t-shirt’ so i just let him fall into my house, like a drunken mess, with a hanging basket? I’m so used to it now and i do mean hanging baskets. Everyone seems to adopt one on the way along with something inflatable. We’ve all been there. I’ve fallen into many a bedroom drunk with my legs in the air, armed with an inflatable guitar. These people need your support. Some say ‘Slippery Slope.’ I say ‘Funnest slide EVER!’

Not sure what happened but he rambles on about some ‘Romeo/Juliet’ type shit, falls into a heap in my living room, asks me if i have a beer, tries to kiss me and then tells me he ‘s in love with me, whilst he’s face down on the floor, with his face eating rug. (Not that ‘rug’ I wish!!) It would’ve been so much better, if he just turned up, fell onto my vagina and started having his breakfast. (I smell moth balls.) I just laughed and left him there. I don’t really care. I think they are also the words i uttered to him, with folded arms, after his big declaration of ‘lurve.’

I’m on my way out again right now, to run a few errands. I’ve left him breakfast, coffee and a note that says ‘You’re a wanker. I love you.’ (I don’t love him and he smells fucking awful!!)

1 thought on “What’s love got to do with it?”

  1. U look powerful chrissie is this pic new u are a good pal letting him kip I love getting in them states even though u regret it the next day


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