It has been months, hasn't it? Sorry it's taken so long, you've probably forgotten about me. No? You want to try again? I should tell you about my relationships then.
I have had a terrible time with my boyfriend, the only time he says "I love you" is when I slip him ecstasy. He would say it pretty regularly, but now his dick is soft and he's started doing heroin. While he's awful cuddly there's not a whole lot of "me" time. I'll be like "honey, let's go to the mall!" and he'll be like drooling with his eyes rolled back into his head. Boys are weird!
My favorite part of that story is that I am with a drug addict... better than a "rug addict", which is what I typed before I realized I forgot the 'd'. Have I ever told you about the time I was in love with a rug addict?
Michel was an arms dealer with a penchant for fine floor coverings. We met at a small patisserie in the West Nile when I gave up on Atkins (AGAIN!). There he was, in a chair uncomfortably close to a young family, hunched over a catalogue filled with- what else: breast implants. I saw my chance... I sauntered over, casually eating flakey croissant- I leaned over the family of three and whispered "I hear the Vatican is hiring a new Pope." As my intelligent, albeit ill-informed, words showered wet bread all over his grey, mustard stained sweatshirt I noticed his eyes fixate on my exposed chest. "Those are some AK-47 tit bags you have!" I loved him, right then. I knew he loved me too, because I slipped him ecstasy and I felt so pretty.
I am a bit of a health person, so having all these drug addict boyfriends really stumps me. I decided to take myself off the market for quite awhile, until I meet someone famous and trick them into loving me. I am sure I will love again, but he has to be famous, because I will not date another man who is unaccountable... or a rug addict.
