That seemingly innocent Barista you are
ogling as she slaves over your
needlessly complex coffee order may
well be in possession of a wit and
intellect far sharper - and of greater
value - than that ostentatious rock on
your trophy wife's finger.
The thing about Lauren. Well. Where do
I start. She's a picker. She's a
grinner. She's a lover. And she's a
sinner. She will proofread by the hour.
She works cheap. She looks cheap. But
dammit, I still can't afford her. I
really love her peaches. Wanna shake
her tree.
I wrote a few words about love for my
friend Lauren, as I promised I would.
I call it, simply, "The Friendster
Testimonial for Lauren - Part II: The
Spoken Word and it goes something
like this...
First a word to those who may think
that long stem roses and perhaps a
fluffy, red feather boa, (while a nice
touch) are the way to this girl's
heart. Oh no no no. While there is
nothing better than a feather boa and
I encourage girls everywhere to
embrace the boa, rumor has it that
Lauren does have satin sheets which
(as we all know) these can be very
romantic (if somewhat slutty). But I
challenge you Ms. Lauren to search
within your heart and ask yourself
this question -- what happens when I'm
NOT in bed? I mean, Lola, you of all
people, deserve the best in life, so,
my friend, it all comes down to
timing. And if the timing is not right
then you really you're doing yourself
the greatest service to get rid of the
lame ass who doesn't fulfill your
needs, look ahead, and for the love of
god, move on. Because the moral of the
story really is that second best not
good enough for the Lauren we all know
and love. And you will do much better,
baby, on your own. [baby, on your own]
So express yourself. Damn it. Express
yourself. And in conclusion, hey, hey,
hey. Approve this! Te he! :P
Lauren's the greatest friend a girl
could ask for. When the house alarm
goes off in the middle of the night
and I'm hearing strange noises
downstairs, Lauren corrects my grammer
in our IM conversation after promising
to check on me in the morning to see
whether I've been bludgeoned to death
by The Hamburglar or just sick again.
Lauren is my stalker...it's slightly scary but
she's supa cute so I'll let it slide till she
starts climbing my balcony at 3am and
boiling my bunnies.....ahhhhhh bunnies!
Sheesh...
energy baby!! Look out..
That seemingly innocent Barista you are
ogling as she slaves over your
needlessly complex coffee order may
well be in possession of a wit and
intellect far sharper - and of greater
value - than that ostentatious rock on
your trophy wife's finger.
one additional testimonial because she
truly is the future Smoove L.
I start. She's a picker. She's a
grinner. She's a lover. And she's a
sinner. She will proofread by the hour.
She works cheap. She looks cheap. But
dammit, I still can't afford her. I
really love her peaches. Wanna shake
her tree.
friend Lauren, as I promised I would.
I call it, simply, "The Friendster
Testimonial for Lauren - Part II: The
Spoken Word and it goes something
like this...
First a word to those who may think
that long stem roses and perhaps a
fluffy, red feather boa, (while a nice
touch) are the way to this girl's
heart. Oh no no no. While there is
nothing better than a feather boa and
I encourage girls everywhere to
embrace the boa, rumor has it that
Lauren does have satin sheets which
(as we all know) these can be very
romantic (if somewhat slutty). But I
challenge you Ms. Lauren to search
within your heart and ask yourself
this question -- what happens when I'm
NOT in bed? I mean, Lola, you of all
people, deserve the best in life, so,
my friend, it all comes down to
timing. And if the timing is not right
then you really you're doing yourself
the greatest service to get rid of the
lame ass who doesn't fulfill your
needs, look ahead, and for the love of
god, move on. Because the moral of the
story really is that second best not
good enough for the Lauren we all know
and love. And you will do much better,
baby, on your own. [baby, on your own]
So express yourself. Damn it. Express
yourself. And in conclusion, hey, hey,
hey. Approve this! Te he! :P
could ask for. When the house alarm
goes off in the middle of the night
and I'm hearing strange noises
downstairs, Lauren corrects my grammer
in our IM conversation after promising
to check on me in the morning to see
whether I've been bludgeoned to death
by The Hamburglar or just sick again.
she's supa cute so I'll let it slide till she
starts climbing my balcony at 3am and
boiling my bunnies.....ahhhhhh bunnies!