852456 She replied, "I'm seeing someone else, right now."

I thought about it for a second, remembered her flirtatious attitude, and shot one back. "Is that an excuse, or a warning?"

It was met with a surprised look, that turned into a deliciously mischievous smile. "I guess it's a warning... see you at eight."

And she leaned in to plant a kiss on my cheek.
ethereal "You're like a saint."

*laughs moronically*

"No, I'm really not."
Derghaust Do you know how to see the acropolis like the Indians did who never even had one? Fuck a saint, that's how, find a little saint and fuck her over and over in some pleasant part of heaven, get right into her plastic alter, dwell in her silver medal, fuck her until she tinkles like a souvenir music box, until the memorial lights go on for free, find a saintly little faker like Teresa or Catherine Tekakwitha or Lesbia, whom prick never knew but who lay around all day in a chocolate poem, find one of these impossible cunts and fuck her for your life, coming all over the sky, fuck her on the moon with a steel hourglass up your hole, get tangled in her airy robes, suck her nothing juices, lap, lap, lap, a dog in the ether, then climb down to this fat earth in your stone shoes, get clobbered by a runaway target, take the senseless blows again and again, a right to the mind, a piledriver on the heart, kick in the scrotum, help! help! itís my time, my second, my sliver of the shit glory tree, police, firemen! look at the traffic of happiness and crime, itís burning in crayon like the acropolis rose!
And so on.

-Leonard Cohen, Beautiful Losers
what's it to you?
who go