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so right, last night, after hitting up town with the boys, i picked up this maori broad, brought her back to mine with the plan of giving her what would probably be the best root of her week (or at least the second best). things were going all fine and dandy right until the moment when we arrived at the apartment and she saw the miserable state of my room--i don't have curtains and i haven't bothered to buy a bedframe so my mattress lies on the floor--then she starts re-enacting shakespeare about how she's forgotten it's that time of the month, how it would go against her native traditional beliefs. personally, i don't have a single problem with fuckin a chick on the rag; if anything, it's like a little t-sauce on a hotdog, something to liven up the flavour. but in the end all my attempts at negotiation fell on deaf ears, and i ended up having to make do with a somewhat unenthusiastic, limp-wristed handjob. all in all, though, it was a pretty good night.
