Remember The Girl that, if I ran into randomly on the street, I wouldn't know if I'd rather punch or hate-fuck her?
Last night I had my chance, and I dropped the ball. I couldn't punch her in the throat, and it's hard to hate-fuck someone with which you hold such an unbelievably deep emotional attachment.
She lives in my neighborhood now, and as of today, Sunday, I am too wonkified to understand if this is a good development or leaning more towards the bad. Whoever said "There's a thin line between love and hate" needs to eat shit and die, because I'm tiptoeing that line after a late night of apologies and I'm sorrys, and all it'll take is a slight breeze to push me one way or the other.
If you don't hear from me for a few days, you know why.
One question before I go, though.
What should I legally change my name to: Rob Gordon, or John Cusack?
2 Comments:
I suggest Ron Mexico.
Ah, c'mon you secretly would enjoy rubbing Destin on your baby's butt 5 times a day :)
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