I feel abandoned.
You've jumped ship,
like all I was was a sinking ship.

My seemingly endless cycle:

Scream, shout, yell, smash things up, runaway, hit, kick, punch, swear, curse, cry, sob, hurt yourself, keep your distance, hurt, ache, isolate yourself, shut down.

Happy!

“When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible." - When Harry Met Sally (1989)


I can't wait for the rest of my life to start. :)

This morning?

Our private words.

Eggs, coffee, toast, forgiveness.

Peace within chaos.

So I was telling Zi about the Manchester thing and she went into a full blown rant via e-mail.

Let’s talk about why people go to strip clubs.  What’s the allure in having some nasty ass skank or man whore slather their bodies in baby oil and gyrate in your face? Liza please explain it to me, because I’m dying to know.

Gotta admit, I’ve been to strip clubs – male dancers freak me the fuck out. Ugh, the thought of where their junk has been makes me want to bleach all my exposed body parts. Yuck yuck. I don't even want to think about see a woman do it...

And I have heard PLENTY of stories of what really happens when guys go to strip clubs. Let me tell you something, the guy ALWAYS gets a lap dance.  ALWAYS!!  And know what else?  The stripper is gonna get motorboated by the guy.  FACT.  If you confront a guy who's been to a strip club and ask him if he touched the stripper and he says “no”, he just lied.  Here’s the deal, stripper boobs don’t count.  As long as the man didn’t touch her skanky ass lady nethers, he's safe. He touched her boobs.  With his face.  It happened, everyone lives.

As for the girls who go to strip joints, just hope the stripper didn’t slap her cheek with his herp infested penis.  You’ll totally know if she starts developing sores on her cheek.

Then she called me up and repeated everything she had just typed to me. Yeah...