The male mind is, to put it simply, an oasis. Or, more correctly, it fancies itself an oasis - an oasis that mermaids [read: women] are irresistibly drawn to, that have an infinite amount of confiscated booty and a sh*tload of of aged rum. Sounds mighty attractive, doesn't it KK?
I need to take that notion and tuck it away inside some tiny box, along with silly suppositions like girls don't fart & salesmen don't lie, then throw that box into the depths of the ocean - or in the toilet bowl. [It'd probably end up in the same place anyway.]
And in case you're wondering why I'm in such a seemingly befuddled mood, I'm right now all Nyquil-ed out. Flus suck ass; hope I don't have medicine-head tomorrow.
And this doggone semester is almost over with, thank God. Come find me the weekend of the 18th and I'm buying shots. Word.