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Wednesday, June 30, 2004
I just found out this morning that someone I know and associate with actually named her Ford Mustang Convertable. NAMED IT. Do other people actually do this? Is it a common practice? Should this person seek professional help? Should this person seek professional help based on that named that was given to said Ford Mustang Convertable? The name? "Fancy". Eek. Monday, June 28, 2004
"Bunch of savages in this town." I'm thinking about writing a book about breaking into people's cars. One that would give very detailed instructions on how to break in. How to do it with finesse and consideration. A polite way, if you will. I'd even give advice as to what items you should break into a car for. Then I'd make sure I found the fuckers that broke into my car tonight and beat them senseless with it. Christ. A shattered front passengers window. Damage to the door of said window. Around 40 CD's stolen. Now I get to file a police report, over the phone. This is because the Montgomery County Police Department wouldn't respond to my call, or the calls of two others whose cars were also vandalized. And they were RIGHT ACROSS THE STREET from the garage we were parked in. Thanks, guys! I also get to do insurance claim things! Thanks to USAA this will only cost me time and annoyance. Yay! 
EIGHT Galleries of some hot chick named Dasha. Enjoy! 1--2--3--4--5--6--7--8 Saw the movie 'Eurotrip' over the weekend and thought it was pretty funny. LOTS of gratuitous nudity. Boobies everywhere. Am now smitten with Michelle Trachtenberg. 
Think about it... 'Star Wars' is the Michael Jackson of Cinema, and George Lucas is the plastic surgeon who should leave it the fuck alone! I think "Freedom Fries" was the most rediculous moment in American History. Friday, June 25, 2004
Quote: "Somebody told me the other day that the Secret Service has orders that if George Bush is shot, they're to shoot Quayle. … There isn't any press here, is there?" -John Kerry (Associated Press, Nov. 16, 1988)
Charge: Kerry delivered this joke at a business breakfast shortly after the election of President George H.W. Bush and Vice President Dan Quayle. The co-chairman of the Bush-Quayle campaign in Massachusetts called it "an extraordinarily reckless comment" that was "very clearly in bad taste." Context: The Secret Service hadn't really been told to shoot Quayle. Kerry was joking. Moreover, the joke had been going around Washington for some time. Defense: Kerry immediately issued a statement saying: "I shouldn't have repeated the story. It was inappropriate and I apologize for doing so." He later told the Boston Globe that he was "kicking himself" for his "bad taste." Too funny, but what a fucking pussy! Seriously. Don't hide behind an apology for fuck's sake! You obviously thought the joke rang true and MEANT IT otherwise it wouldn't have been uttered. Shit. EVERYONE in the world thought Quayle was a joke. If it were me I would have come out and said "Yeah. I told a joke about Quayle. So what? It was fucking hysterical, wasn't it?" Spin THAT. Kerry! You need to grow some balls and go out there and be the ANTI-Bush. You can't do that by pussyfooting around and half agreeing with him all the time. Take a fucking stand, man! VOTE FRANKENBLOG IN 2008 In 2008 I'm going to run for President. I’m not joking. I realize this may seem sudden but I’ve given it a good 15 minutes of thought. I’m tired of the state of things and although I really HATE Bush, I’m not too keen on that Kerry guy. Don’t get me wrong here. I’m going to VOTE for Kerry, but my heart is going to be saying something like “it’s trading one jerk for another”. Let’s just hope that the new jerk (and there’d better be a new jerk in the White House come November) gets his shit together. Anyone who votes Bush for 2004 will not be a friend of mine. In fact, if you vote Bush you might want to have your head examined. Seriously. So yeah. I’m going to run in 2008 as an Independent. And I think I have some good ideas. I’ll be 35. I’m going to kick some ass. I’m going to get rid of the FCC and any other like-minded association that tramples on our 1st Amendment rights. I’m going to make sure that all gay/bisexual men/women can marry who they want, when they want. In fact, I’m going to promote bisexuality in women simply because, yes, bi-women are the absolute best. Right? I’m going to legalize some fucking recreational pharmaceuticals! Ready to go buy a pack of joints from your neighborhood 7-11? Yeah! Michael Jackson? Fuck him. He’s going to jail! I’m going to MAKE FRIENDS with MANY FOREIGN LEADERS. We’re going to sit down regularly and eat good food and shoot the shit and drink and throw up all over each other and bond like world leaders should! We’re going to slap each other’s asses just like those ball players on TV. Then maybe we can share some info and research and collectively come together to do something good. If several countries can get together to build an atom bomb… I’m especially going to make friends with the French. Why? Because dammit, they know how to lick pussy. They fucking invented it! If anyone can give ME pointers, it’s the French (well, and maybe ONE other person I know). George W. Bush Ex-President? Fuck him. More like “Dubya, Rest Stop Bathroom Cleaner”! Rumsfeld? Rice? Ashcroft? Powell? Fuck all of them! They’ll all be Toll Booth Attendants when I’ve had my say! We’re going to start exploring the 95% of the world that’s currently UNDER WATER. I’m sure I can go on and on…but I think you all get the picture. The rest I’ll make up as I go along and dammit, I’m going to try and be FAIR. Vote ME in 2008. Word. Wednesday, June 23, 2004
'Hoochies, Hotties, Hard-Ons and Hurls: My Father's Day Visit to the Titty Bar' by Matt Frankenberg We departed 'Bennigan's' with bellies full of finger foods and Christina smashed from two particularly large and strong drinks, making our way to 'McDoogals' with one Mr. Mark Barnes in tow. The infamous (and hot) Ms. Angie Roberts was still getting ready somewhere in the Baltimore suburbs and the illusive (and also very hot) Lauren R. had not returned the phone call I pleaced from within the restaurant. Mary Anne had frailed-out at the last second. 'McDoogals' was just as it should be on a Saturday night. Line out the door. Lots of horny men waiting to see nekkid ladies. The bouncer with the really long and pointy goatee making sure said horny men wait patiently. Getting in was no sweat for anyone with ID and $15 a head. We waited our turn and (how nice) got recognized by another bouncer. I guess the wife and I have been there a lot. Yeah... Now I must take a brief moment to describe 'McDoogals'. Imagine if you will a street largely populated by auto body repair shops and other industrial crap. There's really no fast food around (not that I was really looking) and the power plant is a mile or so away. You see a lot of trucks whizzing around. 'McDoogals' really fits in with the location. It doesn't LOOK like a strip club and is the farthest thing from glitzy. In fact, you might mistake it for an Irish pub if you were just driving by. But these things aren't that important when you consider the dancers. Unlike a lot of other clubs (and believe me, I've been to some) the dancers are girl-next-door types. In fact, most of the girls rely on what god gave them in chest department and some actually dance. 95% of them are hot. Click HERE to check out several of the dancers. Anyway, back to the evening. Christina, Mark and I sat down and watched the ladies in all of their nude glory. A dancer named Sateen came and sat down on my leg while my wife sat on the other. She wanted me to buy a lapdance from her but I declined. I did, however, tip her. I just don't see the point of lapdances. You sit there and have a hot girl grind on you and then what? There's no sex afterwards. She's not going to finish the job, especially for only $30. Eh... Christina is tanked after having a couple of more beers and this is when Angie Roberts walks in. Everything changes for the rest of the evening. See, before she got there it was chill. Christina and I were tipping the ladies who came around (crawling on the bar) and often Christina would have boobies rubbed in her face, etc. FUN! Now it was a completely different animal. No one screams "Hey! Look at me! I'm here!" for more attention than Angie. She has this boisterous personality that you either love or hate and she has enormous breasts. She's also very uninhibited. So she comes in and by this point one of the bouncers, the announcer and some other guy who was sitting next to us is already hitting on her. The announcer keeps talking about her enormous cans and the bouncer keeps coming up behind her to cop a feel. Angie just has this air of "Yeah. Come on. You want me." and most guys just fall over themselves for it. So here are the highlights: With a stiff drink in her hand, Angie sits down next to us and within 30 seconds turns to my wife, pulls her close, and plants a really hot kiss on her. Tongue and everything. I was all like: "Um...what?". Mark had just gotten up to go pee (Mark went to the bathroom something like 343 times that evening) and missed it. It was completely hot. Woody, a bartender there, became really smitten with Angie and Christina. Would not leave them alone. So kiss #2 happened for Woody's benefit. Woody was all like: "Um...what?". This time Mark caught it. This dancer and Angie kissed each other during the dancer's routine. Angie by this time is tanked. Somewhere around this time, Angie turns to me and kisses ME. I really think I'm a fan of tongue rings. My wife misses this because she's watching the dancers. Mmmm. Dancers... There was a girl there celebrating her 18th birthday. So what better way to celebrate (for all of us to celebrate) was for her to get a lap dance on stage. I was clapping before it even began. But I was not prepared for what happened during OR what happened after. The girl's name was Lauren and she was fairly good looking. A little conservatively dressed. Cute. Someone you might go..."Hmmm. I wonder what she looks like naked". Well, I am happy to say this thought was satiated when the two dancers giving her the lap dance removed all but her panties. This girl was hot. It was even hotter than seeing the dancers. Kinda taboo. The place went crazy. It was really fun. The girl was a freak. Then the unthinkable happened. Because of the positive crowd reaction, the announcer then decided to coax someone else up on stage for the same treatment. Angie gets up on stage, strips down to NOTHING, and proceeds to get down and dirty with a very hot African American dancer who I don't have a link for. Again, the crowd went wild. It was this same dancer that discovered that my lovely wife did not wear a bra and/or panties that evening. Done totally for my benefit, and for easy access...you know. It was just nice! So as the evening began to wind down, Angie once again pulled a now very drunk Christina towards her, began kissing her neck, ears, mouth and was even so bold as to attempt to go up Christina's skirt. Christina, however, smacked her hand away telling her she was "bad". I was totally cool with it and was all like "What? Come ON. Don't be all smacking away the advances!" It's soon thereafter that the place closes down and we realize Angie is way too drunk to be operating a vehicle. We keep telling her not to drive and to come ride with us, but she's just not listening. Mr. Mark, bless him and his roaming hands (he started getting a little frisky with Angie as well), volunteered to ride with her back to our house. They never got there. Christina had too much to drink and by the time we got to the parking lot to split, she was well on her way to hurling. I had to pull over 3 times on the 5 miles trip home to let her get all the evil out (she didn't stop heaving for another two hours). I called Angie and Mark in transit. ME: "Sorry guys, Christina's really sick. We'll hook up some other time." ANGIE: "But I wanted to go home with you guys..." DAMMIT! And that's really it. A little crazy, but otherwise tame. Although Angie apparently went somewhere after and got some. Here's a picture of her taken by the person that got some. Lucky asshole. 
*Note 6/25/2004: I've read through this, like, 50 times now and I think it's pretty tame considering what went on. I mean, we've got some good lesbian stuff, naked women, booze, but somehow it just isn't exciting reading about this. I think you had to there. I don't know. Maybe pictures would have been good, but I doubt they would have liked that at the club. Monday, June 21, 2004
PLEASE STAY TUNED Saturday night shenanigans to be posted soon... *Ok, ok! I fucking fell asleep last night at 9:30. Gimme a break. I had a wonderful shag with my gorgeous wifey and ended up (sorry I have to get all lovey-dovey) snuggling and passed out. What would YOU have done, huh? I swear I'll type something this evening and have it up for viewing tomorrow. It'll be worth it I swear. In the meantime...someone (female) PLEASE send me topless pictures of yourselves! If I like them I'll send you out a FREE frankenblog.com t-shirt! Maybe now this ploy will actually work. Friday, June 18, 2004
An American naturalist wrote, "a patriot must always be ready to defend his country against its government." --Kevin Costner playing Jim Garrison in 'JFK'
A guy who has quit his day job to make a movie that bashes a guy who's day job consists of trying to make a difference in this country (and who has the balls to try). I especially like his clever 'Roger & Me' one-sheet rip-off. How creative. Thanks go out to Mr. Thornton Melon for this. Yes. My wife RULES. You all WISH you had a wife like mine. Tomorrow night (for Father's Day) she's taking me to 'McDoogals'! We'll both get dressed a bit and go and have fun together looking at all the hot, very naked dancers. I'll get to watch my wife gets tons of attention from the ladies (she always ends up having boobies rubbed in her face--she's so lucky!). We'll spend hours there and then go home, sexually charged, and shag like there's no tomorrow. To make things even better, looks like Ms. Angie Roberts will be attending (also has pierced boobies which are super-sized) and who I'm sure will end up getting tipsy, feeling me up and nibbling on my ears...or my wife's. Happy Father's Day to me! Tuesday, June 15, 2004
It's not everyday you open an email like the one I opened this morning. It looked harmless enough. Nothing screaming out from the subject line that would indicate something torrid, but there it was. And wow, was it HOT. I mean, I got a really mean stiffy going. The girl who sent it is Kori B. She's a friend of ours and currently resides outside of St. Louis, MO. We are always in touch, and yes, she has (big) AMAZING breasts. And as you can tell from reading this email, she's got a little "bad girl" streak going... Matt, I don’t have many friends who would really appreciate this story. Not that I don’t have any friends. Its just that all my friends are in that, newlywed, everything is perfect stage. The stage where there could be nothing better than having vanilla sex for the sole purpose of reproducing. Now don’t get me wrong, I love kids and hope to have a few myself one day, but my God, I get so sick of hearing about "making love" and trying to "make a baby". It gets incredibly old. I mean, what happened to a good old fashioned fuck? And it’s not like my friends were never like me. I learned most of my tricks from them! It’s OK though, I understand, but then, I can’t share these stories anymore. There are a handful of deserving recipients, you know who you are, that I have no problem sharing my dirty side with. Which brings me to the phrase "vanilla sex". Thank you to my friend Tony who coined that one. I have tried and tried to come up with my own little catch phrase for boring sex but have failed miserably. I don’t know how better than to explain getting off, rolling over and falling asleep sex. If that is considered "making love" count me out. I don’t want to hear, "I love you" and "You are so pretty", I want to hear "Bend over" and "Suck my dick". Guess I am nothing but a dirty little girl. But if you are asking for my preference, tell me I am pretty after you fuck me silly. So, I have never really been one for the "cop fantasy". I have always been down with the bad boy thing. Tattoos, shaved heads, bad attitudes, sign me up. That is, until lately. It started about a month ago and the gas station. I was inside getting a soda, in line behind a cop. I caught myself completely staring at his ass. Not even trying to be discrete about it. I was full blown, checking him out. I move up from the "ass area" for a minute to catch a glimpse of the handcuffs. I feel as if I am about to loose myself right there in the middle of QT. No joke. That kind of scared me a bit. I mean, in thirty seconds flat I had a whole "scenario" in my mind involving that cop, his handcuffs, and the ice. (Soda, ice, I don’t know where exactly the ice came from but…). The whole thing was like a freaking movie or something. Especially when he flew around and smacked right into me, spilling a little soda on the front of me. It couldn’t have worked out better for me. I was on my way out and looked pretty damn good. I had the perfect shirt on, anyone who knows me at all knows exactly what I am talking about. He apologized, I laughed, we shared strange and uncomfortable looks. His name was Officer Anderson. Yummy. I knew I would never see him again but I would be lying if I said I haven’t looked for him. Ran a few red lights, went a little over the speed limit, hoping I will get lucky. No such luck. I was stuck on this guy for a few weeks, thinking it was just him. Being so hot and given the situation and all. But that, like most things, passed and I was off my Officer Anderson fantasy. Its hot here. St. Louis hot. 9 p.m., 93 degrees and 85% humidity. Miserable. The kind of weather that makes you want to hide out in your car with the air on and never get out. But I dropped a small fortune on my Jeep about a year ago and I’ll be damned if I don’t have that top off ever waking hour of every dry day. I was at the gas station, filling up and a fire truck comes barreling by. The sirens blasting, the lights flashing. The firefighters are sitting in the vehicle and I know they must be sweating their asses off. I get a little twinge of excitement down there. Nothing significant, the kind 0f feeling that you get when you see an incredible guy (or girl) at the stop light. Comes and then its gone. No biggie. I pay for the gas and get on highway 40. Take that to the rural highway 94 that takes me home. Once I get on highway 94 I start thinking about the fire truck. That causes my mind wander and before you know it, I am back to Officer Anderson. I have a few stop lights to make before I get to the 15 mile stretch of wooded highway that brings me to my subdivision. At the second to last light, I take my tshirt off so I am in my shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. I would call it a camisole, but every time I say that, the guys I know have no clue what I am talking about. The guy next to me in the Ford F150 gives me thumbs up and I laugh to myself. One thing God didn’t short me on was boobs. A little amusing to me, but they get a lot of attention. I am thinking to myself how I will be home in 20 minutes, then I can jump in the shower and take care of business. The 20 minute ride is seeming to take hours, however, and I am getting irritated. Trying to drive a stick on a curvy back road highway doesn’t leave much room for error, so I cant really try to drive and touch myself at the same time. No shoulders on the road either. 10 more minutes, almost there. Until I pass the St. Charles County Police Training Facility. They just built this a few years ago. It is seriously out in the middle of no where but clearly visible to drivers on the highway. I look over, and of course, its empty, but I see the paddy wagon and the obstacle course and the firing range and I am seriously about to orgasm without even trying. Damn that Officer Anderson. About a 1?2 mile past the training facility is a commuter parking lot. It’s a gravel lot used for hunters and mountain bikers that take the trail back into the wildlife preserve. Its not lit, very primitive., as far as parking lots go. I pull in and jerk my parking break up before the Jeep is even completely stopped. I leave the radio, Rooster by Alice in Chains is playing. I don’t even look around to see if anyone is there. I slide my seat back, pull my shorts down with a quickness even I didn’t know I was capable of and start rubbing myself. I feel my nipples thru my camisole, they are hard as rocks. I am so wet I surprise myself. I come in about 2 minutes flat. I sit back for a second. Look up at the stars and thank God that I am able to make myself feel like that. Slide the seat back up and head back on the highway. I’m not on the road for 1 minute when I notice lights flashing in my rear view. I seriously laugh out loud. Is this a joke? This seriously cannot be happening. I am almost laughing hysterically but pull it together and I slowly stop on the side of the highway. It takes the cop about 5 minutes to actually get out of the car and walk up to my Jeep. Now I won’t exaggerate at all and tell you that it was Anderson, because it wasn’t. It was however a very attractive, young cop. Tall, stocky, no more than 30 at the most. He stands there and looks at me with this really pissed off look. I am waiting for him to laugh or crack a joke but he doesn’t. He spouts out the standard "license and proof of insurance" and I do as I am told but know that there is no way this cop is going to give me a ticket for anything illegal. I was going 45 mph at the most. He sees I have a cup in my cup holder and asks me if I have been drinking. "No, it’s only water". He asks if I would mind if he "smells it". Go for it buddy. I am starting to get a little pissed, wondering why he really pulled me over. He smells the cup and then goes back to his car to run my license, I guess, and comes back. Hands me my license and insurance card. I am looking at him, he’s looking at me, I don’t know what to do. I am starting to get a little nervous, remembering all the stories about bad cops who pull single women over in the middle of the night and rape them. Then, and YES, I know how horrible this is, I think that it might not be so bad. He has a wedding ring on though, maybe that will control him. Unfortunately, it doesn’t control me. I have only been with one married man, and that was under special "circumstances" but I have this uncontrollable desire to get it on with someone‘s husband. One of those things that will never happen, but still crosses my mind. But I digress. He is STARING at my breasts. Not like a glance or anything like that, but full blown staring, for a full 15 seconds. Now that may not seem like a long time, but when you are on a dark highway pulled over by a cop, it seems like an eternity. He says, "You aren’t wearing your seatbelt". I say, "I know, I just pulled out of the commuter and didn’t put it on yet." He says, "I know where you pulled out of". About another 15 seconds go by. I am nervous and turned on and scared to death. I don’t know what this guy is going to say or do. I notice that I am fidgeting my license and insurance card in my fingers, which are lowered between my thighs. I feel like the biggest idiot ever. He asks me, "Are you going home to your husband?" I tell him I am not married, I am living with my parents for a few months. He leans in against the door and stares me dead in the eyes. "They are incredible." "What are?" I asked. "Your tits". I start blushing like a high school girl and then realize again that I am on a dark highway being approached by a cop and start to freak a little. "Uh…." I say like an idiot. Seems like hours went by. "It’s OK, go ahead". Completely knowing what he wants to do. And he does. He grabs, pinches, squeezes. It was absolutely fucking insane. I was getting groped by a cop. It was forceful and rough and completely hot. And I am just sitting there letting him do it and staring at him the whole time. And that’s it. He stands up, gives me this mischievous smile and says, "Thank you Kori. Drive carefully. Head right home. Oh, one more thing, the commuter isn’t as dark as it seems". And I about wet myself. Am I living in a Penthouse novel or something? --Kori I know it totally READS like a Penthouse Forum Letter, but it's totally 100% true. I only wish I could have been there to see it happen, although it's probably more arousing reading about it. This story could only be better if it was my wife in place of Kori. I know, I'm a total perv. Monday, June 14, 2004
On another note... Since Christina was all excited about her nipple piercings, perhaps we could all convince her to pierce something else and post more pictures. Tattoo maybe? Suggestions, anyone? Had a huge post for today blasting the blogger from 'I hate my wife', but his sorry ass looks to have turned and run. I just had this feeling that he was completely full of shit, so much so that I (and several others) expressed this through comments on his site. Anyway. His site looks to have vanished, and I'm thinking we were dead on. If he re-surfaces I'll post it...gots it saved. Anyway. It's recently been brought to my attention that some think of my site as a porn site. I'm here to set the record straight. It's not. I've got links. I direct to a lot of sites. But I still don't think that classifies me as a porn site (not that I find this offensive). This site is about me and about the things I like. Proudly proclaiming "HEY! I FUCKING LOVE NAKED WOMEN! FUCK EVERYONE!" I am always going to express this side of myself in public and on this site. That's never going to change. But to say that this is strictly a porn site is limiting. Which leads me to... BATMAN BEGINS! 
I look at this picture and I get chills. Looks like Christopher Nolan is kicking major ass here. If he pulls this off I will be among the first to call 'Batman Begins' the best fucking superhero movie ever made. Let's hope... Check out this article for more. Friday, June 11, 2004
Can I just mention how much I'm LOVING the fact that my wife pierced her [gorgeous] nipples? You can totally tell when she's wearing a tight shirt and it's amazing to see her walk around topless with those stainless steel hoops dangling. Still WAY too early for me to play with them, but when it's time I swear I'm going to be pulling on those things. Did I mention it was arousing, too? Not only does it give ME a mean stiffy, to quote my wife: "When my nipples get hard I can really feel the loops in them and it really turns me on." I love it when my wife is turned on. Loving life. Oh yeah. Thursday, June 10, 2004
Guns usually make me uncomfortable. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact I was robbed at gunpoint when I was 18. Still, I'm not ANTI-gun at all. I simply don't like them...unless of course they're being fired-off by a buxom, naked Veronica Zemanova! Monday, June 07, 2004
I solemnly swear I am up to no good... My summer movie viewing got off to a good start Saturday night as I was sitting down at the Muvico Egyptian watching 'Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban'. The movie kicked major ass and was hands down the best out of all three movies. The director, Alfonso Cuarón, did a stupendous job and got some incredible performances from all the actors involved (most notably from Rupert Grint, Emma Watson and Daniel Radcliffe). Gary Oldman WAS Sirius Black and Emma Thompson NAILED Professor Trelawney. 
Since Cuarón did so well I am now very interested in seeing his movie 'Y tu mamá también'. Today's background music is from Azkaban's soundtrack by none other than John Williams. 'Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire' in 2005! Friday, June 04, 2004
Surprise, surprise, surprise! At around 11:45 PM tonight I walked through the front door to find my wife fast asleep on the couch. She was all snuggled in a blanket and looking pretty comfortable and as I layed my keys and bag down she woke up with a smile. We gave each other a kiss. We engaged in some small talk. "How was Mary Anne's?" I asked. "Exciting." she said. "Exciting? Did you have fun?" "Yup." And with that she pulled off her covers and I saw lots of bare skin. I start thinking it's time to get frisky when I notice something different about her. I gasped, realizing what it was. I really was beside myself. I was near panicking. I couldn't believe it. My wife had BOTH of her nipples pierced! 
And I fucking LOVE IT. (The picture was Christina's idea. Think she likes showing them off?) Thursday, June 03, 2004
On other ex-girlfriends... Would any of you believe that I actually dated TWO sexually confused girls named Jennifer? I mean, what are the odds? And since it's happened more than once, does that mean that I am a magnet for such females? Now, by "sexually confused" I mean that each had certain issues that they both struggled with. Both were into women, but neither ever offered me the opportunity to be part of that side of them (and not necessarily in a sexual way). In fact, with one of the Jenn's, her sexuality was treated like she had a disease. This made the whole thing especially uncomfortable. The other Jenn claimed she was a lesbian (seriously) but dated men. Ok... I think that I may write about them individually (at some point), but I hate doing the whole initials for names thing. I like putting it all out there. Feels a bit more real. Thing is, can I get in trouble for that? Am I liable for recounting (in great detail) a past relationship with someone? Thanks should go out to a girl named Misty (who I haven't talked with or seen in years) who flaunted her sexuality like one would wear a shirt. She made me feel comfortable with the concept of dating girls who don't limit themselves to one gender. I hope she's well. When I last spoke with her she wanted me to be involved in some sort of photography project where there'd be a couple walking down the street and she would come up behind them and murder the boyfriend. She'd then take the girlfriend away and have sex with her. Sadly, it never went further than the convo. Did I mention she had dentist-quality custom vampire fangs? HOT. |
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