Mrs. Robinson

So last night, BDK came over. At one point, he asked who else I was sleeping with. Obviously my answer was “Don’t worry about it.” He also called me a bad girl. I said I was an angel, which somehow lead into me finding out he’s rather serious about Jesus. I think we can all guess where this lead. Yep, I was an asshole and argued with him about whether or not JC has a sense of humour. At least I didn’t take it too far and start arguing with him about JC’s very existence. I could feel it moving in that direction, just so I could play devil’s advocate, so I licked his rock hard abs instead. I’m a master of the subject change.

Fast forward to the morning. I notice something on the floor by my bed. A wallet. Obviously I look through it. Nothing of real interest, except his photo id. All this time I assumed he was in his late 20’s. He could have told me at some point, but telling me anything while I’m drunk is like locking it in a vault. Anyways, this motherfucker was born in July, 1990! 19-motherfucking-90! That makes him 22 goddamn years old. This young man, or boy as it were, is 9 years my junior. I am…the greatest.


4 thoughts on “Mrs. Robinson

  1. haha! Love it. Same age as my broseph, who was at one point your future husband….so it all makes sense! đŸ˜€

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