Thursday 15 May 2014

I don't even have a title for this one

Let me skip the beginnings and get right to it. No build up, hardly any plot, no character development. Sort of the way some men like sex? (That’s unfair). I saw her again today
She looks amazing. She looks like dirty martinis, cocktail dresses and not paying for dinner. She’s a lot of woman. She’s impossibly beautiful. In the words of Liz Lemon in 30 Rock, “I want to go to there. I want to go to there a lot”. She turns my sukuma wiki green. She is the sort of lass you meet when you are not ready. She is the woman you meet and you wish you had ‘drunk your lunch’ earlier. You have to be good and drunk first because you always feel like you need some courage when you’re around her. This is where you say something funny and you can swear her nose wiggles when she laughs. I gash.


Fat load of good this will do if you can’t tell her. I want to chum with you. I know there are rules somewhere so I’ll slow down, I don’t want to wake up and realize I missed my period.

Typing, sitting by my phone offering my first born to the monastery if only you would call or text me “One time offer, God. Act now” ………….Then the phone vibrates ‘Hey. My sister gave me your phone #. Are you around?’ *Riley’s celebratory booty dance* Sorry, unborn Monk firstborn. I hope you won’t give me hell for this (no pun intended). She says, “Tell me about yourself” - Of course all of this is in my head, you know. I’m beginning to think I’m nuts now. An absolute nutter. Well, I'm also bananas for her so mocanut (mixture of nuts and bananas) is the word for it.  Don’t say it. Suspend judgement and plant your tongue in cheek

So I answer “Well, I use half the bed when I’m sleeping. I don’t mind a pink table cloth for my wedding if you ask (so much for slowing down) but it may take you a few packets of salt and vinegar crackles to sell me on a pink tie. I’m about that potato chips life. I tear off labels from bottles. Still have that habit. I listen to a lot of Jay Z, the Beatles and UB40.
Me plus heights equals the need for adult nappies, therapy and a beer. I've been arrested once, I’d preferred you get me off rather than a lawyer (pun intended). I can’t cook for shit save for noodles. I could eat ice cream until I lapse into a diabetic coma. But that would be dramatic given that I'm not even diabetic. I penda vanilla and chocolate. I drink a lot of tea. In the words of my cousin ‘I am tripping with this tea’. My shoe size is eight, my natural hair color is black. I used to penda my tusker but I’m not about that life any more. Still enjoy a cold froth though.” 

Or I could just get off the computer and tell you this in person *sigh