Someone tell me why half-make up (it sounds so much better than half break-up) sex is so the BOMB!? I mean, really?! What kind of fuckery is that?
Why do I call it half-make up? Well, see what had happened was a couple of weeks ago the semi-sorta ex came down. And what we came away with seemed very clear. He gets space.
(Bruh's got 90 days and no guarantees. And if he is smart he will get it together before some other dude grabs his cookies and runs off screaming "Mine, mine, mine!" But I digress.)
But we also agreed that before "space" became officially offical that we would kick it through the Labor Day holiday weekend/my girl's wedding in Va. Beach--and then let the space begin.
Since I ain't trying to have a repeat of the on-going foolishness I had with the Bunch (so 'nother story, 'nother time, ' and maybe a little drunkeness required). I knew in my head that I had to get it in as much as possible by the time last weekend came. Cause after that...
No cookies for you!
But Yo! why he been hitting it out the park. Um, like, I'm sort of insatiable now...and um this weekend he looked good enough to eat and shit.
How pissed am I that now I can't have none...out of principalities...???
...This is some ole bullshit.