3:10 p.m. - 2006-07-31
He said, point blank, that if a girl kisses a guy, she has to have sex with him or she's a cocktease.
So by his rules, if you kiss a guy and the chemistry sucks, he has garlic breath, or has bad hands, or you really just don't want to be a Ho and sleep with a stranger you made out with at the end of the night, you're a bitchy cocktease.
He's going straight onto the list of friends whom I will never, ever fix up.
I guess his little friend was none so happy that I snubbed him after a stupid kiss.
He sucked. Why the hell would I want sucky sex after a sucky kiss?
But you can't just look at a guy and decide then and there that you want to get laid. You gotta experiment, test drive, get a feel for the dude. And if you're me, and you still have the interest, you gotta Italian Waiter him if he's a stranger because you don't want to die from AIDS or cervical cancer, or live with a disease that makes its presence known with skin eruptions.
On that note, I took advantage of Nordstrom's semi-annual lingerie sale and got my year supply of bras and underpants. I even got talked into a cute, black pair of brazillian undies with lace ruffles. I'm not sure where you wear panties with black lace ruffles on the butt, but sometimes just having something goofy in your wardrobe is enough. And for 4 bucks, the salesperson probably got some sort of sales incentive and bought a pair for herself.
Nordstrom if the bomb for boobie holders.
One thing's for sure. Neither the DJ nor Goliath are ever going to see a stitch.