A guy just came over to me who looked more like Brad Pitt than anyone (who isn't Brad Pitt) that I've ever seen, although I also am not disallowing the possibility of a pre-existent archetypal Brad Pitt.
But the voice. The voice.
Pre-pubescent Joe Pesci came over and asked if I'd like to have a coffee with him. 'Right up until you opened your mouth.' I passed. Then, "Well, you can't blame me for trying. It's like sperm..."
[cartoon screwed-up face, inside] The external response was the blank stare of Please Stop Talking and Leave (much different than the Please Stop Talking and Kiss Me...I hope). But he continued, "I mean..." and here's where he should've looked sheepish but instead all eyebrows indicated he felt himself terribly endearing, "...you throw enough out there and eventually one's going to take."
Gut, have I told you lately how much I love you? You may not always be right, but sometimes you are sooo on the money I could pull you out and lovingly caress you.
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3 comments:
Eep. It's the Throw-Spaghetti-At-The-Wall-And-See-What-Sticks Method. Also known as The Numbers Game. Also known as, "I am so without redeeming qualities, I know that I can rely only on sheer probability to get a date."
Ever a dazzler.
A Bedazzler!
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