You done pi**ed me off!

I'm learning how to say no. He's worked my nerves up, got my shackles up! Done pissed me off and I think he's the joke of the week. Say what brother? So I'm so nice I'm going to give you my paycheck and stay home to watch reruns? Say I'm so nice that I'll walk to work, here you take the car! Sure Hon, I'm so nice that I'll pick up your sorry ass to come visit me. Oh don't you worry about the tab Shug, I'll get that. And when I stop taking your calls, ain't I still being nice to you? Ain't I not telling you to take your sorry broke a** elsewhere? Ain't I not saying, that you're wasting my time and money? Ain't I bein' down right honeysuckle sweet when I ain't telling you to F*ck off can Call Tyrone? Like I said honey chile... I'm so nice....

This will not have a happy Ending

But It's friday folks! Don't freeze your a**es out there tonight, go on and get your party ON! Party for two wine glasses and wine provided, phone's off the hook, and the cat's at the sitter's!

Ain't it a Kick in the A**

I didn't see it coming. That's my story and am sticking to it. (As an aside: don't ever send e-mail or use the telephone when innubriated! TRUST ME cause you don't wanna know what happens when that e-mail or phone call gets returned!)
Back to the story. It, is a 6'-2" guy, the perfect capuccino, enough cafeine to have you buzzing but the smoothest chocolate ever keeping you sweet! My word, of course my first reaction was to ask if he had been interned in any asylum ( ARE YOU WELL? something along those lines) But guy was not going away... I really should pay more attention to the comments made on my blog! I had put up my resignation notice, apparently he didn't get the memo... or refused, but that's just arguing semantics. I'm still in shock... definitely still in shock. But I have to get out the humble pie and eat my own words, crow never tasted so good.

About Love: '...but in their dreams were hidden dragons'

I am so very weary of getting emotionally involved only to turn into emotional road kill. Give me a hard hat, a rifle, fatigue and camouflage, and while you're at it give me some cover! I'm going to get reinforcements! Combat zone of love, and the phone calls in the middle of the night, from the victims of the battle. At 2.00am, you stir in your sleep, but there's no warm body next to you, to reassure you that the world can go to hell in a hand basket, you'll be fine.

My standards for male companionship are so low, that as long as they fit the current criteria for legal adult human male, with accompanying schlong, I'm game. But withh all things, you can only kiss so many frogs before you start burping up slime! After the last frog, I'm hanging up the diablo bra, the stripper heels that make my good girl outfits purr! I'll keep the nails, the waxing and the perfume (am not giving up all my girlie toys). After a quick call to Anne Summers and a quick trip to the lyme green superstore to get batteries, I'm digging myself a hole.

So as for the Feb 14th challenge I gave myself, I quit! You men win, and those not in my favor (which is the general population right now) Should be packed up and put on a one way shuttle to Saturn, if my luck holds, the shuttle will be built by the UK scientist and get lost like the Beagle! FOR GOOD!

The skin. The Blood.
I saw. She died.
The fire. It burned.
The skin.
It Burned.

The screams. She screamed.
The smoke. It smelled.
The smell. Was foul.
She died. She burned.

The dreams. She lives.
She dies. She burns.
She lives. Again she dies.

The meat. Was fried.
The onions. The oil.
The skin. It fried.
The skin. He ate.
He ate. Himself.

For sins. Not theirs.
Their crimes. Not judged.
But burn. They did.
And burn. They died.

For two known victimes of the MaiMai Rebels of Congo.