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You say it's not a sword!
But with your pen you torture men.
Oh shit, motherfucker, goddamn. 
08 24 10
Kicking bitches out the condo like Pam.

Accept dances.
Refuse phone numbers.
Confirm that, yes, my hair is indeed very long.
Observe that particular roommate lied about 'not dancing like a white girl.'
Laugh to self.
Get stuck walking said girl home.
Pretend to care about her yammering about her ex-fiancé.
No longer laughing.
Consider bottling eau de parfum d'weed et d'aide de kool.

Cause it's on. Yea, girl, it's on.
You know what it is when I finally make it home.
widening eyes
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