A Few Ground Rules
I had James G. over at my apartment tonight. That’s usually a good thing. He was in here to return my plunger since, being of the African American heritage, he takes unnaturally large shits. That’s what I believed at least, he reassured me however, that this is not the case and that African American’s take the same sized shits as tiny Asian-Italian Americans such as myself do. He has stolen my plunger on quite a frequent basis due to the fact his roommates have a very unconventional type of toilet paper: That of Paper Towels. Now, I don’t really need to go into the specifics of the ramifications for using Paper Towels in your shitter, except for the blatantly obvious fact that you’ll… y’know, clog your fuckin’ pipes and overflow shitwater everywhere all the time. And you’ll be gross and stinky and no one will like you.
While he was returning the plunger he informed me that he had been getting laid every night. I asked him if there was any unnatural chafing going on, or if he was exhausted, or if he could teach me to be a man like him. But he told me he was tired of it.
You see, to me James was a P-I-M-P, but he didn’t feel that way. In fact, he was worn out.
The story is this: James and the Girl, they fuck, then she sleeps there all night, and then she sleeps there again in the morning, and then they have breakfast together, and then they watch TV together, and then they have lunch together, and then James might play some X-Box, and then they eat dinner together, and then they might listen to some Dane Cook because the BK Lounge skit is just soooooooooo fucking funny, and then they fuck again, and then they go to bed and the whole thing repeats.
So basically, she sleeps there every singly god-damn night and she recently asked him if he could get a dresser for her so she could keep her girly shit in there and stay with him.
I told him: “Bitch gotta go.”
But James doesn’t want to sacrifice the nightly poon, but he also can’t bare the idea of college marriage.
And that my friends, brings me to the point I have tonight. We’re in a relationship now my beautiful’s, and what we do together every night is beautiful. You’re my shining star and I dream of your curve-a-licious badonka-DONK.
But I need space. We gotta keep this thing we have ALIVE. So I’m setting some ground rules:
- Updates will occur twice a week. Once on Tuesday (An Essay) and once and Thursday (A supplemental to the essay, where I talk about random shit like this).
- I still have feelings for both myspace and facebook, so you gotta give me space and just trust that I’m doing the best for our relationship.
- I might want to take a break from you once in a while. Probably when you’re on your period. Give me my space (Not the internet social network, but rather actual space or “room to breathe”). And don’t be a dumb cunt about it. I hate when you’re a dumb cunt about it.
- Don’t call Tim anymore, make me my steak when I tell you to, and always wear that sexy french maid outfit, rawr.
- I have many fun articles planned for this site, so tell your friends and remember to check back every Tuesday and Thursday. Any feedback is appreciated!
So, I hope we can keep this beautiful thing going. ‘Cause you know baby gurl… I did alot of algebra.
Algebra OF LOVE! And I figured out that YOU + ME = DESTINY.
[Editors Note: I just totally noticed that what I just posted SO was not algebra, sorry!]
Filed under: Personal Entry, Season 1, Supplemental