1. A breach or rent; a breaking forth into a loud, shrill sound. 2. An harangue; a long tirade on any subject. 3. A record of her attempt to climb out of writer's block
Monday, December 12, 2005
a frolic too far
so remember how B- (not B minus) didn't respond when i told him it would be great if we could actually appear in public before going back to his bat cave, and then there was nothing but radio silence as a result?
i think i've found the reason: he moved.
but he moved so effing far northwest, it's pretty much going to pound a nail in our frolic coffin. (i know, there are many nails but this one will be pounded in. the rest are just sticking up, waiting to be pounded in.) why can't he live somewhere normal??
i think it's perfectly reasonable to dump a frolic if he's not easily accessible by public transportation.
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10 comments:
what about just frolicing with the frolic whenever?
Can the frolic do the traveling, or does your roommate's presence get in the way of proper frolicking?
hmm...why can't HE take the [boop] train and the [beep] bus and visit YOU for some frolicking??
dunno..between the spitting, the lack of smooth lover skills and various social deficits you've cited, this guy seems like a high-maintenence model unworthy of the wonderful Ding.
A-non
aww. thanks, a-non!
it's hard to get rid of a frolic when it's the only game in town...sad, but true. he is high-maintenance (y'all have no idea) and i just have a hard time having those difficult conversations, face to face.
would that i could be as smooth in person as i am here!
Yeah, but it's hard to have those face-to-face talks when it takes two hours to schlep to his place! He needs to pick his ass up off the couch, go buy some primo lube and a bottle of wine, pick up a movie, and highly-maintain his bad self over to your place. Where you can opt for or against the difficult conversation, as you see fit.
Aww, thank you.
Now, listen up, woman. You're majorly gorgeous and smart, why the fuck aren't men lining up to give you whatever you want? Frolic, footrubs, whatever. Seriously. You have a backbone problem? For real? I'm astonished.
Also, what Orange said. He may be the only game in town, but how the hell are you going to meet guys who aren't so damn high maintenance when you're schlepping across town on busses and el trains and walking four blocks in the middle of the damn night?
What she said.
dr. b and orange:
i'm lazy. sigh. 'tis true.
jp can tell you. i'm too lazy to sit B- down and say 'hey, stop spitting on my girly parts and, hey, i'm not visiting you until you move back to civilization. shit.'
of course, hm, i'm not too lazy to schlep... hm.
Gimme B-'s phone number. I'll tell that bozo to quit spitting on your bits. I'll also give him the name of a decent lube or two. Sheesh.
in brokeback mountain there was a brief appearance of spitting. it's good for cowboys. but not for me!
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