Aren’t they a beauty?
I ran into a chick I kinda know thru a friend
and she was with this babe. This gloriously good looking stud, I mean, if he was meat, he’d be prime rib. If he was a cupcake, he’d be red velvet with cream cheesecake frosting,
my eyes, literally popped outside of my face and rolled across the floor, and under a table covered in cheap jewelry.
Finally after I found my lint-coated eyeballs and popped them back into my face, I went up and talked to them. I knew this girl had a boyfriend, so I was hesitant, to talk to the studlystud, but lucky for lil ol’ me, she introduced us, and then mentioned her boyfriend, aka not studlystud.
He shook my hand.
He touched me.
This WHITE guy. Yes, I just said I called a white guy a stud. Tall, fashionable, (wearing a peacoat, colored beanie, and fitted jean that was snuggie on his yummy bum) fella with a voice that could be an Anchormans.
I kept making jokes during this small encounter,(which felt like hours) to hid my blushing cheeks. Then they went on their way.
Oh my, I think imam crushin.
Im on the hunt for a second job. Not doing too well.
Sleep tight America.
I kept making jokes during this small encounter,(which felt like hours) to hid my blushing cheeks. Then they went on their way.
Oh my, I think imam crushin.
Im on the hunt for a second job. Not doing too well.
Sleep tight America.
No comments:
Post a Comment