jelliebeers

hey, bay beh

Tag: fuck

Cake

“Oh but, I can’t have my cake and eat it too… but, I am.
You are?  Really?
I’m an idiot!
I’m letting you have that fucking cake.
I’m letting you have that cake with ice cream!  With fucking chocolate syrup, sprinkles and a fucking cherry… put whip cream on it!

I can’t give you anymore cake.
You know, like, I’m not a cake factory.
People run out of cake!
I don’t have enough cake to give you anymore!
You don’t deserve… my cake.”

j and j

March 29, 2012

“There’s a couple of things that I need from Duane Reade.”
He picked a bottle of Johnson and Johnson baby oil off the shelf.
“What’s that for?”
He smirked and cupped his hands around my ear.  I could feel his breath.  In a smooth, deep voice he whispered, “Your ass.”

present participle

eavesdropping on my neighbors fucking
dreaming about nothing
sweating under velvet bed sheets
killing cockroaches

watching videos of the morbidly obese
eating handfuls of dry cereal
pouring milk into my mouth from the carton
worrying about getting fat Read the rest of this entry »

Paul Masson

November 19, 2012

grande amber brandy
you should have bought astroglide
aged in oak barrels