People I'm going to sleep with now that you're gone...
People I'm Going To Sleep With Now That You Are Gone
1. Your Best Friend. This is not purely out of spite. He's dead sexy, you've said so yourself. I've always had a little crush on him, I think every girl entertains a crush on her boyfriend's best friend. Except maybe if you're dating Jack Black. KG is definitely not hot. To be fair, it will probably take some liquor to convince him (he may get a case of moral supremacy), but since he's a bartender, that can be arranged. Besides, as I am sure he himself can painfully recall, you've slept with more than one of his exes.
2. Rachel from NY. I'm not usually a lady for the ladies, but this girl is special. She completely floors me every time I see her. She's the kind of girl whose eyes are so spectacular you can physically feel when they are on you. Like that creepy clown painting my best friend had in her basement growing up. Except hot. Anyway, she may not be into it, I think she's fairly hetero, but as the once great David Spade said, "Every girl is two drinks away from girl on girl action."
3. Randy my old aerobics instructor. A 6'2-cut-from-marble Nubian god who shook it not like a Polaroid picture, but like a damn Etcha-sketch. AND his name is Randy.
4. Mike from back home. Growing up this dude was two years younger, scrawny, unappealing to me who was busy trying to play grown-up. While I was gone he grew up in spades. He is now boy-band good-looking and I have it on very good authority that it will take naught but a pair of fishnets and a purpose for him to make my brown eyes blue, if you catch my drift. (BTW you should know that the day before you broke up with me I dropped, like, a hundred clams at the Victoria Secret semi-annual. I bought things with zippers, garters, bows, studs, one thing I still can't even figure out. Let's just say I'll be sending the Hanes-Her-Way to you along with the rest of your things, you poor-timing mother-fucker!)
5. John from many years back. This will take a lot of apologizing and forgiving, but in the morass of shady hook-ups this list has become, if it works out, this one will feel like home.
6. Ah, Roy. I love Roy. You know I love Roy. You know that now you're gone I can seriously love Roy, and I'll love you knowing that, while I'm loving Roy.
7. A New York City Dick. Looks like I should hop a Fung-Wah and maybe make a weekend of it. I heart New York cop shows like no one's business. Bring me your Melonis, your D'Onofrios, your huddled masses of wise-cracking rookie detectives longing to screw me! I just have to see for myself if NYC detectives live up to an eighth of their mythology...if not then there's always...
8. A marine. They've always brought me luck. Tattooed gracious drinkers with just enough gay in them to make things interesting.
9. The Pivs. I don't know what it is about him. He's really short. And as far as famous people go, I could do much better. But every time I see him I just want to 'hug it out, bitch.' Some days you wake up and want grapefruit juice, what can I say?
10. You. Yes, you. I'll try to sleep with you again, maybe under the guise of break-up sex when really I'll want it to be make-up sex. You'll probably reject me, inciting me to add more of your friends, people you are openly jealous of or other arch nemeses to this list. I can't turn it off, baby. I see all these arms reaching for me--some slender with wrists, some like bowling pins, some with anchors, some with hearts--but all I want are your arms. Around me. I'm sure I'll have fun completing this list, but I'd tear up one a million times as long of fantasies for the reality of you. Please, come back. I miss you something awful.