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A Confession (of sorts): Who Am I?

Who am I? I am the master of the veiled threat. I drink Jameson neat, out of a wine glass. I am beautiful. I don’t have sex as often as I should. I am very, very smart. I do not cry in public anymore. I wish on stars, and eyelashes, and clocks. I want to be famous. I am a very private person. I am not shallow. I appreciate generosity. I don’t trust anyone immediately. I hunger for contact with new people. I’ve been the other woman two and a half times. I’m not proud of that, or my tendency to exaggerate. I do not often say what I think. I think a lot. I’m not someone you like immediately. I avoid confrontation. I thrive on winning. I have never had a weight problem. I have breasts slightly smaller than I would like, but bigger than gravity would ignore. I am getting gray hair. I have phenomenal teeth, caps. I leave wet dishes on the counter. I write essays while riding public transportation. I can dance better than almost any stripper. I can sing better than most church soloists. I’ve never been in love that lasted.

Comments

I don't know, but lets see those fucking tits...

Hah, maybe you could add "I write like a 12 year old remedial student."

You better ride public transportation more and get some more writing practice!

This infantile entry is getting real old-this cannot be the only thing overheard in the UK

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