Tuesday, September 27, 2005
match made in heaven
I'm standing on a busy cross street, when this pimped ride pulls up blaring masogynistic lyrics. For some reason, the driver decides to stare at me. A lot. For like the whole time he's stopped at the light.
Here's what I'm thinking the whole time while I'm standing there pretending to not notice the staring, strategically turning my head every direction but his:
Dude. My dress is black, boring, and buttoned up to the neckline. My hair is in a bun. Everything about me screams librarian. But maybe you're into that sort of thing.
Cat, baby...this bud's for you.
Here's what I'm thinking the whole time while I'm standing there pretending to not notice the staring, strategically turning my head every direction but his:
Dude. My dress is black, boring, and buttoned up to the neckline. My hair is in a bun. Everything about me screams librarian. But maybe you're into that sort of thing.
Cat, baby...this bud's for you.
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Mary, the boy stared at you because YOU are HOT. I was thinking along these lines last night at FHE--Boy, I wish I looked like Mary. Not because then strange men would stare at me (though that could be considered a fringe benefit), but because then I would be, like, HOT.
Maybe you looked like the librarian in the Hot for Teacher video (at least I think that's the video).
Mary, my dear how I miss you so. It sounds as though the fun never stops when it comes to you and I wouldn't expect anything less. Talk to you soon my dear.
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