Flinging Pheromones
or, "My Moans are Whorish."
Whoops.
"My Hors are Moning." There.
Except they're not. I have absolutely no idea what's going on; maybe it's something in the air, maybe it's my laundry detergent, maybe it's my new deodorant stick, but the men have been in my face this week. And except for one person, these are men I didn't even know knew my name! They're just there, like furniture, ya know? But this week it feels like the furniture got moved around, because I keep tripping over these people.
Can you say "eye contact?" Yes, you can! Can you say, "Make sure to get right in my face so I know you're there?" I know you can say that, too.
I never pay much attention to these guys. Like I said, furniture. They go with the territory, and when you've seen it often enough, you stop SEEING it, ya know?
And, oh, yeah-- I don't give out my phone number unless you're gay or I've known you at least 5 years and/or we've had no less than 47 conversations, okay? AND, I have to at least find you somewhat interesting. And I have to trust that you aren't asking for my phone number because you have any interest in me other than how to spell words or want your Tarot done. Otherwise, it's no go. Forget it. Stop trying to give me yours, too. And as for you young ones? Get over yourselves. Go bother your mothers.
So what's up with all the hair-tweaking and winks and flirting? I SOOOO don't flirt. Don't know how, not interested in learning, thank you very much.
I'm wondering how long this will last. Probably not much longer. I'm sure the wind will change and someone else's pheromones will come wafting under their noses.
In the meantime, maybe I should buy a lottery ticket?
Whoops.
"My Hors are Moning." There.
Except they're not. I have absolutely no idea what's going on; maybe it's something in the air, maybe it's my laundry detergent, maybe it's my new deodorant stick, but the men have been in my face this week. And except for one person, these are men I didn't even know knew my name! They're just there, like furniture, ya know? But this week it feels like the furniture got moved around, because I keep tripping over these people.
Can you say "eye contact?" Yes, you can! Can you say, "Make sure to get right in my face so I know you're there?" I know you can say that, too.
I never pay much attention to these guys. Like I said, furniture. They go with the territory, and when you've seen it often enough, you stop SEEING it, ya know?
And, oh, yeah-- I don't give out my phone number unless you're gay or I've known you at least 5 years and/or we've had no less than 47 conversations, okay? AND, I have to at least find you somewhat interesting. And I have to trust that you aren't asking for my phone number because you have any interest in me other than how to spell words or want your Tarot done. Otherwise, it's no go. Forget it. Stop trying to give me yours, too. And as for you young ones? Get over yourselves. Go bother your mothers.
So what's up with all the hair-tweaking and winks and flirting? I SOOOO don't flirt. Don't know how, not interested in learning, thank you very much.
I'm wondering how long this will last. Probably not much longer. I'm sure the wind will change and someone else's pheromones will come wafting under their noses.
In the meantime, maybe I should buy a lottery ticket?
Lori finally stopped procrastinating at 5:58 PM
5 Comments:
lol...lol... and lol...
Your making yourself sound like an old troll.
Don't be scared... it tastes like chicken.... HAHAHAHA.
M.
Really, if you were here, you'd be L-ing your A O. Although one of them is kinda cute, in a tabla rasa sort of way.
And once I ate frog legs because I was told they taste like chicken. They didn't.
....... WHAT TASTES like chicken..........
Babe, don't worry-- most likely you'll never know...
hahahahahah!
M.
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