Thursday, June 17, 2004

Just one more cigarette... never mind

Yes, I used to be a smoker. And I still have moments when I pine for just one drag like a half-desperate woman might crave a dysfunctional, yet intriguing lover.

For the past two days I've been feeling so close to caving, and I've been personifying my desire for the stick with an imaginary bad-boy. I only have to picture the guy with the devil-may-care, laissez-faire, disheveled hair... the guy who grabs you in the dark corner of some seedy bar while you're lost in a drunken binge. Then I imagine the next morning and I see myself scrambling from his dirty apartment hoping that I remembered all of my personal effects. Suddenly, I don't want that cigarette after all.

Truth be told, I've decided to stop dating guys just because their bathroom as so god awful nasty. I've always said if you really want a decent girl to stay the night... "CLEAN YOUR FUCKING BATHROOM."

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