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she's a pretty lady. she's got that mid-30s healthy, fun, professional fun-fun appeal. like, i could imagine teaching her how to make mimosas (dork! you;re such a [i]jenni[/i] and i [i]love[/i] that, hun!) and throwing a few back while we watch TV on DVD and i we cuddle and watch battlestar galactica and she listens to me talking intelligently about the plausibility of mankind realizing an actual "cylon future," and we make out and then she drives me home and we hang out again the next day. on the fifth date, [i]screw[/i], and trust me [i]my friend[/i] she's gonna tell me i was the best lay of her life. who knows if that will be true. [i]probably[/i]. even though girls are always telling me that, who knows if it's true. like how girls always tell you that they couldn't tell you were really drunk the first time they meet you at the corporate luncheon at Chilli's. the truth is you were mostly on pills and the night before you did some coke, so you weren;t on point, you were mad weird from all that shit, but you tell her you were drunk and tired also. that's what the fuck you tell her, do you understand me? you can;t let your coworkers know this kind of shit. what the fuck is wrong with you???? speaking of fucks being wrong with a nigga, why do you 5 moonman sites, shizzle? the fucks wrong with you bro