Poor little Boy (Part 3: The Aftermath)

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I miss her. Yes, the Boy helped and I probably feel better now because of him. But like he said, "We needed each other at that moment. The moment is gone."

Ok, I know you want to know what happened. Yes. He got me out of my clothes on the couch, and then he put his member into my sacred spot and we both thought of frickin England.

Ok, that's not fair. I'm writing this blog as a kind of therapy for myself, and if someone else actually reads it, you probably deserve some details.

Unfortunately, I'm not feeling very good right now to give more details than: Yes, we took a shower. Yes, I swallowed something not of my body. Yes, he made my hair mat up on the back of my head like a French whore. And finally, we actually exchanged phone numbers the following day. It seems the Boy actually has a personality.

Who would have known?

Or cared?

Anyway, today I feel very melancholy. The Boy called to tell me thanks but he was as blah as I was. We both decided to suggest finding ourselves a good replacement girlfriend. I emailed him a naked picture of Bea Arthur.

He emailed me a naked picture of Maude.


I'm thinking the Boy will be a good friend. If he pays for my Warcraft subscription!

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