So I work next to a Jimmy John's, right? And there's this bloke who works there, who rides a scooter to work. It has orange bits, and a skull and crossbones on it. He's pretty. I fancy the pants off him.
Has a swirly, colourful arm-piece. I'm so very tempted to go over during his shift and flirt the name of his artist out of him, but he really is way too cute. Glasses and dark hair.
Oh, I need to stop fancying boys with big tattoos.
No.
Wait.
I don't.
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
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3 comments:
Yes, you don't.
I went and talked to him today, and he's really not that cute. Bahh.
Oh really . .someday you'll look back with a sigh and say . . .
'Fucking Hell I was awesome'
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