Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Diary 1/3/08: Aurora

Oh yeah— I was going to stop going on match.com. Because I’m bored with it. I’m bored with getting laid. I want to meet a chick who’s actually cool. Not a chick like Aurora, who bugs the fuck out of me. Not a big boned chick— a big, thick R. Crumb drawing of a chick who thinks— who wears shit like zebra cork platforms and asks me about them, clearly wanting to be told they're sexy, a chick— God, I just want a chick who doesn’t wear lacy underwear. A chick who doesn’t have a weird shaky little rescued-from-abuse toy poodle who eats its own shit and then jumps in your face in bed and breathes on you. That’s what did it. The dog shit breath. And the way she makes you use polyurethane condoms and then like— takes her hand and twists a big cold squirt of lube on them. It makes me feel like I’m having an ultrasound.

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