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the colours in your head



The fact that we have similar tastes in books, music and movies does not necessarily mean that there will be contact of a sweaty rubbing naked nature between our bodies at any point within the forseeable future. Your penis will not approach me, except in a respectable, nicely-contained-within-your-pants manner.

If I choose to dance near you, that is not an invitation to grab at me. I like being grabbed at on occasion, but you are ugly, and the "good taste in books etc." needs some more time to work its magic before grabbing at can even begin to materialise as a feasible option.

If I am talking to you, but then I start going off and talking to the person next to you about the band name on their shirt, that means I'm trying to escape and am making desperate conversation. Nope, not hanging on your every word. Just trying to not OBVIOUSLY blow you off.

In short, my acknowledgement of your existence as a sentinent being does not mean that I wish to have sex with you.

In other news, my foot is bizarrely numb and has a really painful part to it. Did I manage to break it last night and not notice?


At 7:57 PM, November 26, 2011, Anonymous Louis said...

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