Tales of Rock: Eddie Van Halen Makes Out With Woman In New Photo

Eddie Van Halen Makes Out With Woman In New Photo – AlternativeNation.net
— Read on www.alternativenation.net/eddie-van-halen-makes-out-woman-new-photo/

Sun Stories – The Most Orange, Crispy Tanning Horror Stories You’ll Ever Read

Dear Dr. Derm, forgive me for what I’m about to say.

So, yeah, “tan me” is way hotter than “pasty-and-pale me.” (And by way hotter, I’m not intimating that I’m incredibly good-looking—or even a little good-looking—it’s about that little bit of bronze that balances out my sometimes ruddy skin, makes my hair look blonder without the $250 highlighting bill and let’s me walk out of the house with some Aquaphor on as lip gloss and nothing else). But, since tanning is universally known to cause bad stuff (hi, cancer), I refrain and instead hit the bottle.

Either way you go, the bottle tan or the UV-ray real thing, getting bronzed often produces the most brutal (and totally hilarious) stories. To wit…

I went tanning before a date once, because I was feeling a little pasty in the dead of winter. I tanned in the buff, and went for the full 15 minutes. Not a good idea when you haven’t seen a ray of sunshine since August. I burnt my butt and my chest. Not cute—and of course it made me pray that the date wouldn’t go that well. The clothes had to stay on!—Nat, 31

My senior year of high school, my friends and I went down to Cancun for spring break. As we basked in the sun, a friend rolled over and asked me if I wanted any of her sunscreen. I told her no, I wanted to wait a little before applying so as to get a little color and said something stupid about my “natively Floridian skin” being able to take the heat. Flash forward to later that night, when my skin had turned bright red and blisters had started to show up across my belly and shoulders. I spent the rest of the vacation wrapped up like a mummy while my friends called “not it” on sharing a bed with me; by the end of the trip, my skin was peeling off in long, clammy sheets and the big joke in the morning was to wake up, find a strip of my skin in bed and guess which body part it had come from as in “Oops! There’s her forearm!” or “Hmmm, I think this is her right flank.” Eleven years later, I’ve had no less than three suspicious moles removed, all in the vicinity of my Cancun burn. Clearly, my “Floridian skin” couldn’t handle the heat.—Janey, 29

I should have listened when the front desk girl winced and recommended five minutes less than what I asked for at Hollywood Tans. I was fried—and had to go to a wedding that night, where I was seeing my ex for the first time since the breakup. Needless to say, it wasn’t the I’m-hot-and-you-so-regret-breaking-up-with-me moment I’d envisioned.—Kat, 30

When I was 12 years old, I wore my first adult bikini ever. It was a J.Crew pink bandeau top with white polka dot bottoms—I have never felt so chic. Granted, this was at a time when my nickname was “tomato on toothpicks” for a reason – I still had a surplus of baby fat in my middle region. Anyhow, my friend and I decided to play some cards which turned into an all-day tournament. By evening, we were burnt to a crisp. That night, when I took off my bikini, I not only had a bright white stripe where my bandeau top had been, but bright white stripes where my stomach rolls had blocked the sun from reaching. For about two weeks, I had a lovely bumble bee, perfectly horizontal-striped pattern from chin to thigh. Talk about shame.—Emily, 29

In college, after going out and having a few drinks I would come back to my room and decide that it was a great time to apply self tanner. Being that this was 10 years ago, the formulas weren’t what they are today—there wasn’t any gradual build up of pretty, golden color a la that Jergens stuff. So, I’d get home, slap it on and go to bed. Not only would I wake up to a hangover the next day—but an orange streaked face and entire body parts without color. Don’t mix booze with bronzer.—Kim, 26

A few years ago, a friend talked me into going tanning. It was the dead middle of winter and I think I was see-through I was so ghostly white. So, we walk up to the reception desk and she’s singing the praises of going tanning—”It feels really nice and warm! You’ll have a tiny bit of color when no one else does. It’s make any zits go away,” blah blah blah. Well, between her and the front desk lady, they had me signed up for the ten-tan package. I’m into this! Yeah, no more zits! The second I get undressed and step into the booth I have a panic attack. Something about the neon-coffin closing on top of me totally wigs me out—I go running, yes really running, from the booth. Couldn’t take it. And that ten-pack never got used.—Sara, 24

And just to prove that guys have their own tanning fiascos, too:

I was maybe 11 when a friend shared his bottle of Beach Boys-brand tanning lotion with me. We were really concerned with being cool and looking tan when the swimming pool opened for the summer and this seemed like the quickest and smartest way to go about it. I faithfully applied the lotion, which looked and felt like sunblock, each day before I spritzed my hair with lemon juice and peroxide. About three days into the experiment, my mother was staring at me from across the dinner table and told me to go wash my face, that I had dirt all over. This seemed weird because I hadn’t been playing in dirt, but being a kid it was very possible that I got dirty somehow—so I followed instructions. This scenario repeated itself the next night and I began to think that just maybe it was my bitchin’ tan she was noticing. The tanning lotion, at this point, had turned my face a rusty red—but not all over, the color was clustered in certain areas of my face, giving me the overall appearance of having competed in a mud pie-eating contest. Coupled with the copper color that my hair was turning, I was cultivating quite the look! Thankfully, mother threw away the tanner, but it took another week or so before all of my face was the same shade again.—Tommy, 31

 

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Tales of Rock – The remarkable story behind David Bowie’s most iconic feature

At the centre of it all, your eyes, your eyes …”

Many aspects of the life and incredible achievements of David Bowie will be considered in the weeks and months ahead following the news of his death. Yet the cryptic lyric above from the lead single on David Bowie’s new album is a reminder that the unusual appearance of his eyes was a key part of the singer’s star persona.

Indeed their iconic presence features in the advertising campaign for ★[Blackstar]. For many people it is that look – that the eyes formed a core part of – that will be an abiding memory of Bowie.

So, why were they apparently two different colours?

Complete heterochromia is a fairly rare condition (in humans) whereby each iris is a distinctly different colour, such as having one blue iris and the other brown.

But this isn’t why Bowie’s eyes looked different.

Instead, the unusual appearance of Bowie’s eyes were due to a condition called anisocoria. Anisocoria is a condition characterized by an unequal size in a person’s pupils. In Bowie’s case, his left pupil was permanently dilated.

This can create the illusion of having different coloured eyes because the fixed pupil does not respond to changes in light, while the right pupil does. So Bowie’s left eye often appeared to be quite dark, due to the blackness of his dilated pupil, when compared to the blue of his right iris.

The dilated pupil of his left eye was also potentially more prone to the effect of “red eye”. This sometimes adds to the appearance of a different color when contrasted to his right eye.

Red eye occurs when light reflects off of the fundus (the back of the eye), through an open pupil, and captures a red coloration by picking up tonality from the blood in the choroid lining of the eyeball.

This can clearly be seen in the Aladdin Sane – Eyes Open photograph by Brian Duffy (shot in 1973 but unpublished until 2011) that was used as the lead image on the posters for the V&A David Bowie is (2013) exhibition.

So what happened?

Anecdotally, the cause of Bowie’s anisocoria was attributed to the fallout from a lusty scrap in the spring of 1962. Bowie had come to blows with a friend, George Underwood, over a girl they were both hoping to date.

Both were just 15 at the time and their friendship seemingly remained intact. The two performed together in various bands before Underwood turned from music to painting and graphics. But Bowie’s left eye remained seriously damaged.

An impulsive punch had accidentally scratched the eyeball, resulting in paralysis of the muscles that contract the iris. From that day, Bowie’s left pupil remained in a fixed open position.

Over time, Bowie apparently thanked his friend for his notorious eye injury, telling Underwood that it gave him “a kind of mystique”. This mystique helped fuel some of Bowie’s greatest creations and enhance iconic images, such as the album cover for Heroes (1977).

His eyes could appear eerie and mismatched, producing a captivating or mesmeric gaze from on stage or through the lens of a camera. And the uncanny appearance of Bowie’s eyes was ideal for a performer who embraced ideas of the alien, the outsider, the otherworldly and the occult.

In an increasingly visual world seemingly preoccupied by perfection, Bowie’s damaged left pupil became an intrinsic and arresting part of his enigmatic identity.

 

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Phicklephilly – Fat And Curvy Are Not The Same

In the last few years, it has become the so-called “polite” thing to call a fat person “curvy” so as to appear less harsh/make them feel sexier and more desired/appear to be accepting of anything other than a size 0.

And while politeness, skirting the issue, and trying to find a way to accept such a body shape is no bad thing, we need to stop lumping (excuse the pun) these people together with actual curvy girls. This is not a fat-shaming exercise; it’s simply an observation about the way we view body image. Curves imply arcs, parts of the body that wave in and out—not rolls of excess fat and skin, sagging over the bones it’s meant to be covering.

It’s bad enough that we have to contend with the fact that plus-size models are actually still below the average dress size of women in the country, but to lump all those not fitting one boyish, skinny frame as “curvy” is just obscene. You wouldn’t call a rectangle a square because it has the same number of sides, so why should you bundle together different types of women who are completely different just because their clothes are labeled above a certain number?

It may be harsh to say, but there’s no way a healthy naturally curvy girl wants to be thought of in the same bracket as someone who resembles the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man, or the Michelin Man… looking like their kneecaps will crumble under their own weight in a few years. Curvy is Amber Rose. (Pictured above) Curvy is no more Melissa McCarthy than it is Kate Moss any day of the week. So why is it easy for us to distinguish skinny from athletic, athletic from curvy, but not curvy from a more rounded figure to a clinically obese person?

If we want to accept all body types and people of all shapes and sizes, shouldn’t we first establish that there are actual major differences in body types? Forget the numbers, the labels, the scales, and everything else—just use your eyes. There’s a visible difference. This is fact. So let’s address it.

We may be years away from the fashion industry opening up to the possibility of shapes other than a straight, thin line, but we can all start to change our own attitudes today. Be real, and be honest for crying out loud.

Now this is CURVY …. And it is GLORIOUS.

Fucking Gorgeous!!!

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Sun Stories: Anna Laura Sommer – Secret Identity

That is her real name and these are her real photos. Anna gave me permission to publish them. The first time Anna came into the salon she looked like the photo above. But she was wearing even more loose-fitting clothing. If she had told me she was just getting to get a base coat for this weekend’s folk festival I would have believed her. Because she just looked like a plain Jane hippie girl.

Then we got to talking. “What are you looking to do today?”

“Just a spray tan.”

“Wedding? Event?”

“Fitness contest.”

“Really?”

“Yea.”

“Forgive me but I would never have pegged you for a fitness competitor. We’ve had a few of them in here before, and they’re all buffed and look like they just came from the gym. How’d you get into that?

“Well I saw my sister-in-law compete in one and thought at the time, whoa that’s way out of my comfort zone.”

The photo on the left is the ‘Before” pic and obviously the one on the right is the ‘After.’

 

 

She had a passion for health, wellness, and service since she can remember. She attributes this to her family. She grew up on a farm in a small town in Arkansas. Growing up on a farm gave her brothers and her a rather unique perspective on life: one that enabled them to dream wildly and fearlessly. Her mother, who was and continues to be an incredible inspiration in living a healthy, balanced life despite whatever curveballs life may throw at her further fostered this creative spirit within each of us. Her brothers, as well as her husband and sister-in-law, went on to selflessly serve our country as officers in the United States Army.​

Needless to say, everyone in her life has demonstrated in various ways what it means to be a Servant Leader, and truly live a passionate life by using your own gifts to help others succeed.​

When her brother, Tyler, lost his life during his deployment to Afghanistan in 2009, Anna fell into a depression that she struggled to recover from for at least 7 years. She lost sight of the dreams she had as a child, and began to merely exist, rather than live.

When she began a rather stressful graduate program, she began to go to the gym as a way to cope with the stress. She started to learn how to eat to fuel her body. She even began to read personal development books for fun! She knew she wanted others to experience what she was experiencing. Upon completing graduate school, she discovered a deep passion for coaching others in their personal health and fitness journeys, and obtained my personal training certification in 2016.

Her mission is to equip others with the tools they need to feel good in their skin.

She saw her sister-in-law in a fitness completion and thought that was way outside of her comfort zone. So she decided to take a chance  and enter one herself.

She entered her first ever fitness competition and won FIRST Place!

 

An object in motion stays in motion, but it has to be properly fueled to do so. We as humans are no different. Fuel is what keeps us going and keeps us continually burning with more intensity.​

She’s heard many people (both women and men!) tell her how intimidating, uneasy, or incompetent they feel when they walk into a gym, surrounded by “meatheads”, “hotshots”, or people who look like they know what they’re doing. These men and women say they ultimately wind up wasting their time, because they don’t have a plan, or they become too nervous to work out in front of people, so they just…don’t.​

Anna has certainly been there, and she doesn’t want anyone to feel that way. She wans to help you uncover the confidence and gain the knowledge you need to become “fueled”- mind, body, and soul. It’s when we step into our own power that we begin living life at 100%.​

Anna doesn’t want to become a crutch for you. She wants to coach you by providing you with the “not-so-secret secrets” to living a healthier, more joyful lifestyle.​

When you align with FUEL, you become a part of a tribe of like-minded, empowered women who support one another in achieving their goals. If we were created to go at life alone, there wouldn’t be so many of us, right?

Professional Credentials & Background

•​​Certified Personal Trainer, American Council of Exercise

•Certified Lifestyle Coach, Savage Lifestyle Coaching Academy

•Fitness-Nutrition Specialist, American Council of Exercise

•2017 Ms. Bikini New England

•Fitness America Bikini Pro

•Team Isagenix Athlete

•Licensed & Certified Speech-Language Pathologist, ASHA

 

An amazing Sun Story about a great lady!

 

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Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

One night a couple of years ago, I was out with a friend of mine. We were having drinks outside at Misconduct at 15th & Locust. He was telling me a story about this girl he met on Tinder. Pure hookup. She comes over to his apartment. Sadly, she doesn’t look like her Tinder pics. Which is not good. That’s like seeing a photo of a car you want to buy in the Auto Trader and when you get to the lot to check out the car, it’s an older model and a little banged up and maybe even a bit more car than you saw in the photos.

But he was drunk and up for the foul deed. He said she was a thick girl but he went to town on her anyway. Like my tinder profile says: “If you don’t look like your photos, you’re going to buy me drinks until you do.” So he said it was good sex except for one thing. He didn’t like that she wanted him to spit on her and hit her. There’s nothing wrong with what two consenting adults do with each other behind closed doors. Especially if everyone’s on board with what’s happening. But he didn’t like it. Just not his thing.

He told me that he wasn’t comfortable with that situation. He said at that point no matter what he was into or what he would do, he couldn’t do that again.  It just wasn’t him. (He didn’t spit on her or hit her at all) At that time, back in the beginning of 2014, I had just come off a break up and told him to send Andrea pics of me. Because I was up for whatever she wanted dished out. The key here is when it comes to dominance, be firm…not mean. There’s a big difference. I would discipline and correct her if necessary. And remember, the submissive party is ALWAYS in control. They have the safe word and hold the power to cancel the fantasy at anytime. That’s the rules of S&M play.

Well, nothing came of it. Until earlier this year when she connected to me on LinkedIn. LinkedIn of all places! Can you imagine with all of the dating websites out there, LinkedIn brings me the crazy S&M chick? So we chatted and did some texting. She wanted me to text her all of the things I was going to do to her, so I did. I have a pretty good imagination. She said she was getting really turned on and that we should meet.

I set it up that we should meet at the Ranstead Room. It’s just a good spot normally to hideout with somebody. I get there and I’m just chilling with a drink. She arrives shortly thereafter. My friend was right about her. In her Tinder pics she looks really hot, but in real life she is a lot bigger, and what was with that low tranny voice? Not good. I just wasn’t feeling it. I would have to drink a LOT of cocktails for Andrea to start to resemble her profile pics on Tinder. So I figured what the hell, I was already here and the drinks were flowing. She wasn’t that hot but at least I was someplace where nobody knew me.

Then the manager from the restaurant where my daughter works suddenly comes through the door and walks right up to me and says hello using my name.

Now I’m made. He can see who I’m with and now everybody there knows my name.

Andrea starts telling me about her life. She hates her job and wants to leave Philly. (Probably a good idea for us all.) She was seeing some crazy drug dealer loser guy. He’s suicidal, and does tons of coke. It’s bad, and she’s not much better.  I always thought if you did a bunch of cocaine you were skinny. Certainly not the case here.

After awhile we’re getting pretty tipsy. We went outside for a cigarette. She was on me like a northern pike hitting the bait. So I’m making out with her and people are walking by on Ranstead and she just pulls her boobs out. She’s losing her shit. She wants to take me back behind the building and give me a blowjob.

Yea. Great. I’ll just go stand behind my daughter’s manager’s Mercedes-Benz and you can give me oral. What if he walks outside and sees that shit? That’s not going to be good for me or anybody. Now, if this was Los Angeles and it was 1982, yea I’d be down for that, but not now. That’s gross. Sure, I’m flattered that she’s turned on enough from my words and the alcohol to want to blow me in a filthy alley, but no. Just no. I don’t roll like that.

She’s drunk. We go back inside and we’re in the vestibule and all sorts of things are happening with lips and fingers. If somebody comes through either door, we’re going to jail. So after that brief encounter, we go back inside. I kind of want to go home. In the right environment, some S&M play could be fun with her, but I’m just not getting a good vibe from her in this moment. She’s calling me daddy and all that shit. She says she loves older men, etc. I tell her I have an early sales meeting in the morning that I have to travel to so we should wrap it up. (A bold-faced lie)

She wants to go back to my place and have sex. Great idea. I can see it now. Me walking through the door to my apartment with Andrea and my daughter sitting on the sofa.

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

No. Not happening. We pay the bill, and we walk over to 18th Street. I hail her a taxi and send her on her way. I was actually relieved when she was gone.

If somebody I met and was in a relationship wanted to experiment with some things, I’d be down with that, but Andrea just isn’t that person.

Update! She appeared at the salon tonight for a tan before she goes to L.A!

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

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Kim – 2016 – The Animator – Part 2

“I liked her. She’s pretty, funny and smart. She’s like a hot Margret Cho. Lovely hair. Luxurious dark brown tresses. She’s wearing a blue dress and fish nets and cool little boots. So I approve.”

She was on time for lunch. She looks good. A bit thick, but forgivable if she’s as interesting as she seems in her profile.

We meet at one of my favorite lunch spots, Misconduct at 18th and JFK. She’s excited about it. She texts too much for a woman her age. Seems juvenile and desperate, but I think that’s an Asian thing.

I liked her. She’s pretty, funny and smart.  She’s like a hot Margret Cho. Lovely hair. Luxurious dark brown tresses.  She’s wearing a blue dress and fish nets and cool little boots. So I approve.

Here’s the intel I gathered from her over chicken tenders and sliders.

She has her own animation studio located in Langhorne, PA.  She specializes in all types of animation, and is currently creating 2d, 3d, and flash animation, motion graphics and graphic design for various clients, ranging from small businesses to Hollywood studios, media companies, and pharmaceutical companies around the world.
A little bit of background on her…. When living out in L.A, she worked in Children’s TV for Cartoon Network as an Art Director, Animator, Storyboard Artist, and Character Designer for popular TV Shows (“Dexter’s Lab” and “Power Puff Girls”).  Her own pilot appeared on CN, was optioned by Disney, and was critically acclaimed.  Once moving back East, she moved into Commercial Animation as the Creative Director for a company in 3D Pharmaceutical Animation, and then Creative Director and head of Marketing and Interactive Design for a Clothing Manufacturer.  She started her company to continue with her passion for all types of Animation.

The premise of the show she created is roughly based on her life as a Korean adoptee; the main character had previously been featured a comic strip by her.  The pilot aired in August 17, 2001 on the network as part of their Big Pick competition, a marathon of ten pilots with viewers selecting one to be produced for the network’s fall 2002 season. The series lost second place to Codename: Kids Next Door.

The pilot was created by she and her husband who is also a Korean adoptee. Kim, an adoptee of American-Jewish parents, based the main character on her life experiences as an immigrant. In years prior to making the pilot, she had started a nonprofit organization for helping adopted children locate their biological parents. Her husband felt much of the impetus for the pilot came while searching for his birth family in Korea. However, Kim later remarked that the pilot “had nothing to do with” her life.

The pilot was optioned by The Walt Disney Company  before being turned down. Cartoon Network first approached Dunn in Los Angeles, then a comic shop employee who had just moved in. The network, impressed by her work in independent comics which had spread through word of mouth, landed her a job at Cartoon Network Studios, and a few years later, she and her husband produced the pilot.

 

This all seems amazing but why is she in PA nad not L.A?

She created all of this little greatness with her husband in L.A. He apparently banged his assistant while they were married. Cheated on her with her for a while. Got said assistant pregnant.  Kim was already pregnant with a daughter. Kim divorces him and moves back to PA to be around family to raise her little daughter. Career in ruins. Pilot’s a fail. Doesn’t get picked up.

Pregnant assistant has an abortion and leaves Kim’s husband. (Piece of shit) He’s now remarried and has some other kids. Don’t know what the child support number on all that is but I’m sure its steep.

Red flags are waving proud at this lunch but I’ll order an Old Fashioned to steady the nerves.

That was 13 years ago and now she is living here in PA with her daughter. Apparently the kid is amazing and I’m hearing nothing but good things, so as a parent I’m always jubilant about that kind of success.

She said her 13-year-old recently just got boobs but still looks like a little girl. My dark side is struggling with the evil here but I hold fast as a parent and don’t fall into an Asian human trafficking fantasy. I wish Kim hadn’t told me that shit on a first date. It’s just a little weird.

Her daughter is an amazing child who is an A student and a pianist. Dad is out of the picture. I guess that POS is still in L.A. and I can’t believe he isn’t even a presence in his daughter’s life, because even when I felt like I was on my ass I saw Lorelei every other weekend.

Kim hates what’s she’s doing right now. It’s probably some animation/graphic design bullshit because she keeps asking me if we need anything like that for the gym we’re opening. It sounds like she’s on her ass.

(Red flags are still waving proudly in the May afternoon sun outside Misconduct)

We leave the restaurant. The lunch has been good. I walk her to the car park and give her a kiss. She’s hesitant because there is a fat black woman sitting in the lobby of the check out. I don’t care. I wanted to kiss her. I like her.

Sort of.

 

After the date, we texted over the next few days.

“Morning!”

Loves to text.

“Hi Kim! How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Doing well. Just going to work. I have some stuff to do this weekend with friends and the business.” (Bold Faced Lie)

“Is there anything that I can do to help with the business? I can always use extra work if you’re comfortable with that.”

(Sounds like she’s out of work)

“But we could meet up again next week for lunch and/or I was thinking movies next weekend? Sorry we’re on different subjects here. How could I help?”

I’m trying to make a second date. Kim is obviously looking for a meal ticket.

“Yeah! That would be fun! Sorry! Promotional video for your online marketing video efforts, maybe working at the tanning salon?”

Now it’s just nuts. I went on one date with this woman. I get her trying to sell me some shit. I’ve been in sales since the 80’s. Suck it. But work at the salon? We have people for that. How fucked are you in your life?

(This is starting to sound like that chick that tried to sell me Amway on a date!)

“We have a video that’s running on a loop monitor in the salon. We’re all staffed up at the salon. (Bold faced lie, Trish is fucking history) I was thinking of us hitting Mac Mart     (Awesome mac and cheese joint in Rittenhouse where I know the owners.)

“Oooh Mac Mart. Sure!”

A few days later…

“What are you up to?”

“Sorry. Busy weekend with the sisters and daughter! (Bold faced lie) How are you? Hope yours was good despite the rain.”

“Yeah you don’t text much?”

“No.”

WTF? I’m an adult and I don’t need to be constantly texting anyone. It’s fucking annoying!

“I was kind of sick but it was nice.”

“When I’m with family I’m a bit off the grid. (True. But in this case, a Bold faced lie)

“Sick? What happened?”

“My throat hurt, coughing but I’m doing ok.)

This courtship is amazing romance.

“How are things otherwise?” (Being nice)

Good. (Sends me some drawing of her and her daughter. It looks like daughter drew it and it sucks)

“So Mac Mart?”

I figured one last-ditch effort just to see.

“Oooh You’re not going to come out to me!”

Here we go…

“Great drawing of you and your daughter.” (Bold Faced… oh fuck it.)

“I mean are you ever leaving the city?”

This is when Rittenhouse Bubble phicklephille kicked in.

“What’s the point? I could rent a car or do a Zip car to come see you no problem.”

“Oh. Well then it was nice knowing you.”

(Really, washed up animator who would work in a tanning salon?)

“Oh ok.”

“If you can’t try to see me… Then.”

 

And that was it. I never heard from Kim again.

Do I care? Not in the slightest. But I think we could have had some fun going to see some films at the Ritz.

*YAWN

Onward we go!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish Monday through Friday at 8am EST.

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