Desktop Orphan; Dialouge, sort of in Normal entries
- April 22, 2016, 5:37 p.m.
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- Public
“ I really hate your relationship with your clothes.”
“The fuck? I’ve been accused of a lot of things, even convicted of a few, but never, ever of being a clothes horse. Shit half my wardrobe would be rejected by goodwill.”
“Honey, probably just a third.”
“Am I supposed to be getting pissed off? I think it’s working.”
“You and your clothes are … stubborn. Every time I see you you eventually put them on.”
“Ah. I’m supposed to be amused. Shame that, you were gaining ground on pissing me off.”
“Tell you what … I’ll surrender if you leave those panties where the good lord flung em.”
“Jesus H Christ? Boy he must have come and gone in a hurry I didn’t even see him. He just blew his amateur status, now he can’t compete in the Olympic panty flinging.”
“Oh? You paying me for sex? The good lord is doing an internship, he’s getting paid in experience. But he could go pro whenever he wants, his dad has connections.”
“Give me a ride?”
“Huh. I blasphemed for you and you’re still going to put those clothes on.”
“You only blasphemed for panties. Keep em. It’ll be a hell of a story for your demon cell mates. ‘What’re you in for man?’ ‘Pink V cut medium thong’ ‘Womans?’ ‘Yeah, I knew her.’”
“Really?”
“Just a guess. I don’t think I believe in hell. But, you know, if Jesus tosses panties I figure the whole lot of them must have a sense of humor, maybe not a good sense, but a sense.”
Spilledperfume ⋅ April 23, 2016