I'm totally on Facebook, my alias is Invisible Nightmare.
Jenn CookseyPicture Bigfoot with tits, dude...she was fuckin' grisly.
Jenn CookseyOkay folks, what we have here is surely a never been seen before event. It looks like Satan herself has been called out by a - hey, how old is that walking corpse?
Jenn CookseyBad sex is a fuckin' myth, like a goddamned legendary creature in some fuckin' sappy fairytale.
Jenn CookseyJust so you understand; he's using a scene from Buffy to ask me out!!!!
Jenn CookseyHe and I speak the same language...we just have different accents.
Jenn CookseyTrue, but Little Sister is patient and she's always watching.
Jenn CookseyTag: young-adult contemporary-romance young-adult-romance
What do I look like? A blonde rolodex for boys who've lost an archery match with cupid?
Jenn CookseyTag: young-adult contemporary-romance young-adult-romance
On the wall next to the door we’d entered through was a huge floor-to-ceiling bulletin/whiteboard combo and hanging from a thumbtack on the bulletin board amongst pictures and other various sorts of memorabilia was my bra. It’d been washed but it still had
a good many blotches of pink on it. If that wasn’t shocking enough, the dialogue written over the last two weeks on the whiteboard pertaining to said bra certainly was. I’ll include the copy just so you can truly appreciate what I’m dealing with here.
Tristan’s Mom: What’s this?
Tristan: A size 34B lace covered slingshot.
Jeff: Nice!
Tristan’s Mom: Do I want to know?
Tristan: I don’t know, do you?
Tristan’s Mom: Not really. Are you planning on returning it or did you win some kind of prize?
Tristan: I plead the fifth.
Tristan’s Dad: Well done son.
Jeff: Ditto!
Tristan’s Mom: Don’t encourage him.
Tristan: Gee, thanks Mom.
Tristan’s Dad: Can’t a father be proud of his only child?
Tristan’s Mom: He doesn’t need your help…obviously.
Tristan’s Dad: That’s because he takes after me.
Tristan: Was there anything else I can do for you two?
Tristan’s Mom: Tell her I tried to get the stains out, but I’m afraid they set in before I got to it.
Tristan: I’m sure she’ll appreciate your effort, but if I’m any judge (and I’d like to think I am) its
size has caused it to become obsolete and she needs to trade up.
Jeff: I’m so proud.
Tristan: Thanks man.
Tristan’s Mom: A name would be nice you know.
Tristan: Camie.
Tristan’s Mom: Do we get to meet her?
Tristan: Sure. I’ll have my people call your people and set it up.
Tristan’s Mom: I don’t know why I bother. Do you want anything from the store?
Tristan: Yeah, Camie’s sleeping over tonight and I promised her bacon and eggs for breakfast.
Jeff’s got the eggs covered but could you pick up some bacon for us and maybe a box of Twinkies
for the bus? Thanks, you’re the best.
Jeff: I have the eggs covered?
Tristan’s Dad: He gets his sense of humor from you.
Tristan’s Mom: Flattery will get you everywhere. How would you like your eggs prepared dear?
Taking a deep breath and trying not to reveal my sudden feeling of inadequacy, I was about to come back with a counter offer when a knock on the window startled me and I did what I always do…I squeaked, which Tristan thought was pretty hilarious. And for whatever reason, that embarrassed me. Nooo, not telling a guy I’d need gum in order to give him a blowjob, or being more than half-naked with a guy and almost having sex for the time, nor sitting on said guy’s lap while he has an obvious erection…no, none of that embarrasses me. Nope, squeaking like a timid mouse in front of him…that’s what turns my face bright red. I’m tellin’ ya, I have issues.
Jenn CookseyPagina 1 di 2.
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