Oh, no, “O”…

Based on my limited experience, it’s not usually his heart that’s cheating, is it, O Magazine?

I’ve never had a cheating man ask me to stroke his heart. They don’t text at 3 a.m. looking for deep, penetrating…heart-to-heart conversation.

But I guess “his cheating dick” was kinda inappropes for the supermarket checkout.

(Again, limited experience. My heart has cheated, I’m sure others’ have, too.)

Fixing two kinds of withdrawal at once…

Surprising no one, I am a giant, pent-up ball of lust for the guy with the scruffy beard who makes my coffee at the farmers market. 

Greetings, my good man. Once I get this coffee in me, can we get you in me as well?

Motherfuckin’ Mona Lisa in this business

Someone at work just told me I hide my stress well. This is good, because I’ve been told throughout my adult life that I have an inordinately expressive demeanor when it comes to irritation, anger, nervousness, lust, and love. So at least I’m enigmatic when my brain is all twisty.


TV-induced lust and gateway douchebags

I’m watching the first season of “Community” on DVD.

Why didn’t anyone tell me Joel McHale is snark-funny AND has a body like that?! JAY-sus!20131125-094402.jpg


Quotable: “She’s 18. Her taste in men is still being established. Creepier and creepier dudes will start thinking of her as an option, and it all starts with Vaughn. He’s a gateway douchebag.”
— Jeff Winger