Philadelphia Accent One Of Nation’s Top 10 Sexiest, Poll Says

Youse guys wanna celebrate wit a wooder ice?

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PHILADELPHIA — A new poll asked 1.5 million people which accents in the United States are the sexiest. And guess what, Philly? We cracked the top 10.

Bigseventravel.com asked its 1.5 million social media followers to rank the sexiest accents in America.

Philadelphia was ranked No. 8 out of all 50.

Here’s what Bigseventravel.com says about the Philly accent:

One of the world’s most unique dialects is in the Delaware Valley – the infamous Philly talk. The words ‘fight’ and ‘bike’ sound more like ‘foit’ and ‘boik,’ while ‘very’ becomes ‘vurry’. It’s a thick accent, but hey, if it’s good enough for Will Smith…

Oddly they rely on Will Smith for their write up. Despite being a Philadelphia native Smith does not carry the Philly accent.

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While our way of talking isn’t as parodied as much as New York (which was ranked No. 3) Boston (ranked No. 2), and Texas (No. 1), notable locals will still bring it to the forefront for a good joke, like Upper Darby native Tina Fey has done on “Saturday Night Live” several times.

Our neighbors in New Jersey are likely not pleased, however. Their accent was ranked 49th of 50, coming behind only Long Island.

See the top ten below:

  1. Texan
  2. Bostonian
  3. New York
  4. Mainer
  5. Chicago
  6. Mississippi
  7. Hawaiian
  8. Philadelphia
  9. St. Louis
  10. California

Check out the full list here.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Cherie – Chapter 43 – A Kiss Before Asia

Cherie is going to visit her brother in Japan. The whole family is going.  She’ll be gone for two weeks. It sounds like it will be an amazing trip. I’m going to miss her but we’ll keep in touch. Last weekend was amazing so that’ll have to hold me over, but I thought we could have lunch this week just to see each other one more time before she leaves.

We decide to meet up at Misconduct. The last time we were there it was her 27th birthday. I gave her candy and a gift card to Starbucks. Our relationship was so new back then. Barely a month old. Now we’ll have been together for nearly ten months. Going strong.

I’m sitting at my table (table #12) and who pops over but my friend Mary. (See: Mary -Unexpected Table for Two) Normally she’s not here on a Tuesday, but for some reason she’s here. It’s nice to chat with her. We met up for drinks a few weeks ago and I’m happy she’s in my life.

Cherie arrives and Mary remembers her. She also remembers the cute unexpected way she was a part of me giving Cherie her little birthday gifts that day back in November.

Cherie is wearing a little olive-green vest over what appears to be a silky patterned jumper. It’s the least clothes I’ve ever seen her wear in public. The two strips of fabric can barely contain her breasts, the neckline plummets, there is no back to it, and the shorts are barely there. She looks smoking hot. I love seeing her lovely shapely legs out. It’s actually turning me on that my girlfriend has so little on in public.

Lunch was great and it’s good to buy my baby a meal, because she never wants anything.

Later I’m walking her to her car and she tells me she’s horny. She’s always horny. I’ve never met a woman with a more insatiable sex drive. It’s fantastic, but I sometimes I feel bad for her because she’s worked up and I’m not with her and I can’t help her relieve the urge. I like walking down the street with her. I hope I run into someone I know so I can show off my lovely girlfriend.

We get to her car and she is in a 2 hour parking zone so she has to go. We get in and chat a bit in the air conditioning.

“You’re the perfect guy for me.”

“You’re the perfect girl for me.”

“I love sex and I can really cum a lot of times. I need to release as many as I can. But I need a man who can sustain intercourse for long periods of time. Most men hop on, hop off and that’s it they go to sleep. You just keep going, and going. You’re like the Energizer Bunny!”

“Well thank you for that, Cherie. I love having sex with you so much I want it to last. Anything worth doing, is worth overdoing. I enjoy the journey with you more than the orgasm. That may be hard for some men to believe but it’s true. It’s not about the destination because then our lovemaking is over. I don’t get to see you that much, so I want the intimate moments between us to be memorable and I really want to satisfy the woman I love sexually.”

She kisses me and I kiss her back. It’s a lovely moment. I’ll miss her. I assure her that we’ll keep in touch.

She drives me up to Walnut street and I kiss her goodbye and tell her we’ll keep in touch.

I walk around the corner and light a cig. I head to the salon.

A few hours later I get a text.

“I’m sooo horny!”

That’s my girl.

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Cherie – Chapter 29 – Darker the Berry Part 2

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, Cherie.”

Previously on Phicklephilly:

At this point I’m glad I have drawn my massive blue curtains so my neighbors aren’t losing their shit from what they are about to witness. This aging gentleman throttling this beautiful young black girl in his bed for the next twelve hours.

So after the massage, she’s primed and ready to roll. But there is something else…

I tell her that I know that she didn’t want anything for Valentine’s Day and she knows I don’t want anything. Cherie never wants anything from me. Just wants to be with me. We haven’t celebrated anything except our love in so many ways, and we’re doing it right. Life isn’t about stuff. Stuff and gifts is something you do to as an obligation for some empty holiday. Most of that crap was invented by advertising agencies to generate income for corporations. (Do your homework people) That’s not what real love is. Real love doesn’t want anything. You are satisfied with who you’re with because they’re a good match for you.

When I started this journey, I never thought I’d be here. I didn’t know that would happen. I just wanted to document what happened to me in my past relationships that failed in this fair city. I never thought I’d fall in love again, and I never thought it would be this glorious.

I go over to one of my dressers and pull out an elegant white box. I reiterate that Valentine’s Day has passed and I saw her before that but not on the day. I again tell her I want nothing from her because she gives me so much good love and that’s enough. I lay the box on the bed and tell her I felt compelled to get her a little something. It’s been two years since I’ve had a girlfriend and she’s so amazing I HAD to get her something.

She seems really surprised and delighted. She opens it and it is a very expensive set of lingerie. I know her sizes and it will look amazing on her.

Cherie LOVES it. She’s so grateful. She says that she’s so happy she could cry. I tell her there’s no reason for tears and please just accept it and maybe wear it for me or whenever.

I had to get her something. I couldn’t be without love for two years and not get my new love a little sexy something for my baby on Valentine’s Day.

I had to do it. I’m a giver and Cherie has been so incredible in my resurrection back into the world of romance where I belong it almost doesn’t do her love justice, but I had to do something!

I feel her pleasure at this small sweet token and her reaction justifies why I love this woman so much. The girl who wants nothing and only gives of herself so perfectly. (tearing up as I write this)

I’m amazed at my good fortune. This lovely girl absolutely loves me unconditionally and I feel the same. She’s so easy to be around an I’m happy when we’re together. All of the stuff we do is always sweet and happy. She is a nymphomaniac and the only thing that’s keeping her from being a sex addict or a whore is loyalty and self-esteem. I’m on the receiving end of that all day long. She lives an hour away. I still get to have time alone and with my friends and everybody, but she’s still my girlfriend and my number one.

Michelle and I worked together. (See: Michelle – A Brand New Day) Annabelle had a crazy schedule because she was crazy and disorganized and didn’t know who she was. (See: Annabelle – 2013 to 2014 – Nice to Meet You) On the other hand Cherie has her whole week and life mapped out on a weekly basis. She has stability and I like that. She has her whole next semester and medical school planned as well. She’s either going to be a neuroscience doctor for pediatric medicine or she’ll teach it at a university.

We tore each other apart tonight. Cherie truly is my match. I have never in my life (and I’ve been in 3 bands) had a woman who is more sexually focused and driven in my life. Her target is me. Our sex is more amazing than can I describe in this little blog. She’ll arrive at 9pm and will collapse at midnight. If she needs to be on an 8am train back to Children’s Hospital I will be raped at 4:30am by her.

Last night I had the most joyous sex I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been a hypersexual since childhood, so maybe I’ve finally met my Queen.

Cherie needs to be on an 8:05 train back to the hospital. So we get up at 6am and get ourselves together and head out to breakfast. We hit the Midtown Diner like always. Breakfast is fast, cheap and open 24 hours.

I’m looking at her across the table and we know what happened. We are now more in love and deeply connected that we’ve ever been. We know it.

“Can I tell you something Cher?”

“Yea sure baby anything…”

“Everybody wants this.”

“What, delicious breakfast?”

“What we have. Everybody in the whole world wants what we have right now. But its ours. There are people with enough riches to make Solomon blush, but they can’t buy this feeling.”

“I know…”

“They all want the feeling of being in love that we have right now. “They can take all the trips and have all the fun they want but they would trade it all if they could have what we have right now with each other. It’s powerful and rare, and we have it and I want to hold onto it for as long as I can. No matter what heartache or problems you have, this is the greatest feeling that everyone wants.

“I know it; to fall in love…” she says softly.

That’s it. That’s everything. The most powerful thing in the universe. To have that easy feeling and that’s tender love and fiery sex with the one you truly love is breathtakingly elegant.

Yet some, like my last girlfriend squandered it because they don’t even know what it is.

“The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, Cherie.” (I’m getting misty writing this about her)

The rest is just mortgage or rent, bills, work, kids and all that other shit you have to do to survive.

“I love you so much, Cherie.”

“I love you more…”

She can always one up me…. my love.

After breakfast, ($20! yay!) I get her to her train. Parting is always such sweet sorrow. But I got to at least sit and have breakfast with my sweet lovely girl. I got to discuss with her how important our relationship is to me and what this kind of love means to me and to humanity.

Me writing again. Finally. A blog about dating a bunch of crazy women and fun experiences has become a document to my love and admiration of a wonderful woman who has taken a chance with her heart on a guy like me.

The train pulls from the station and through the window she blows me a kiss. I watch as the train barrels down the tracks back to her home. My queen kidnapped again. She’ll work the next ten hours following doctors around and taking care of patients. I’ll go home and nap for two hours and then run the salon from open to close.

I am sobbing as I write these words….

Life is beautiful.

We are one inside these walls. Undercover.

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Cherie – Chapter 5 – Be Careful What You Wish For – Part I

Don’t be a guy.

Be a man.

Saturday arrived. I woke up relatively early. Philly had periods of showers but the rain was supposed to stop around 1pm, so that was good. I didn’t want another rainy day date with Cherie. But actually I was looking forward to seeing her so the weather didn’t really matter.

I stopped by the salon to drop off some detergent and bring my friend Trish some fives for the register. She was hung over from a night of Jameson at Tattooed Mom’s with her friends on South Street. She stopped drinking alcohol about a year ago, because she said she didn’t like how she behaved on it. Said it made her angry. Trish is angry anyway and I can only imagine what a nightmare she is on booze. That’s probably part of the reason she can’t function without smoking marijuana everyday and drinking oceans of coffee just to get through the day. I’ll be writing a chapter about her in the near future but for now I’ll stick to the events of today.

I give Trish the fives and she hands me a twenty out of the register. I’m walking across the lobby to take a seat and chat with her for a bit when she says. You have a hole in the back of your pants. I’m like, “Stop checking out my sweet ass.”

“Seriously dude. You have a huge hole in your pants. Don’t you feel that?”

I reach back and sure enough, there is a pretty good-sized hole there.

“I didn’t want you going out on your date today with a big old hole in your pants, dude.”

I joke that maybe I could guide Cherie’s hand to it in the movie theater for some cheap thrills.

“It’s the 3rd date!”

“I hate that shit!”

I tell her I agree. I don’t know if you all know this but a lot of young people are under the impression that the 3rd date equals sex. Which I find stupid. In all seriousness I would rather get to know someone and if there is a mutual attraction, the sex should just happen as a celebration at some point. There should never be a deadline related to intercourse. That almost sounds predatory.

So I head back to my apartment to put on another pair of jeans. I grab a pair and realize I haven’t worn them in a while. Like two years. They are a 36 waist. I now wear a 32 waist, but can do a 34 with a belt. They’re just too big and I look ridiculous. I grab another pair. Another hole in the seat. What’s going on here? Did I wear out the seat of two pair of jeans? I know I see the occasional mouse here in the building but what sort of butt munching rodents do we have around here?

I find a pair that are in decent shape with no holes in the seat, and put them on. This will have to do. I go downstairs and summon an UBER. While driving down to Columbus Boulevard to the multiplex, I chat with my driver, Hanna. She asks me what movie I’m going to see. I tell her the lady I’m taking likes scary movies, so we’re seeing, ‘Ouija: Origin of Evil.’ Some how she gathers from our conversation that my date is younger than me. She asks, and I tell her she’s a little younger. She tells me about a male friend of hers, who is 50 something and was dating a woman in her 40’s and just wasn’t happy. He said that women his age were all carrying all the same baggage. He’s now dating a woman around 30 and says that younger women are just more fun. I say that I agree, but when you date younger women they all eventually want to get married and have kids.  She says that her friend is always up front about that sort of thing. Maybe I should have been clear about that in my last 3 failed relationships. And here I am being driven to what could possibly be a 4th similar destination.

She lets me out and I go into the lobby and get in line for tickets. The movie starts at 1:50 and it is now 1:30. I get the tickets and as I turn to wait for Cherie, she appears. On time. Early. I like that. It’s really nice to see her. Even though it’s only been four days since our last encounter.

Her hair is up in a bun, exposing her lovely slender neck. makes me think about how I kissed that neck on Tuesday. She’s wearing a yellow blouse, and light brown slacks. They cling to her shapely legs.

We are about to enter our auditorium and we notice the floor is really sticky. Someone must have spilled a soda there, and they tried to mop it up but didn’t get it all up. Now I’ve been to plenty of movie theaters in my time, and have jokes about the sticky stuff and detritus that is on the floor of the theaters, but this was really sticky. I had to laugh out loud. I practically had to curl my toes to keep my shoes from being pulled off by that sticky floor. Just a classic ‘out at the movies’ moment.

We go in and decide that we both like to sit in the back of the theater. I ask her if she wants anything to eat. I suggest some delicious buttery popcorn. She says it’s ok but doesn’t like how it can stick in your teeth. She says she likes chocolate, but not dark chocolate. I tell her I love dark chocolate. She smiles and knows what I mean. I really do prefer dark chocolate to milk chocolate, but I also love the color of her skin. I go and mortgage my house at the concession stand on exorbitantly expensive snacks. Medium popcorn, medium cherry coke, bottle of water, and a bag of snickers minis for baby. $21. The food was as much as the tickets. The kid behind the counter even told me I could upgrade to a large popcorn and a large soda for $.50 more. I compliment him on his up-sell, but politely decline.

I get back to Cherie. I get all of our snacks and drinks squared away and sit down. “How did you know I loved Snickers?” she asks. “Well I’m funny and you like to laugh, so I figured, Snickers. she smiles and we settle into the previews. There aren’t many people in the theater. I like that. There’s also no late arrivals and no one is sitting in front of us. I love that as well. People are getting seated and chattering a little but that’s acceptable during the previews. We’re whispering closely. Then we kiss. It’s really nice. I feel like a teenager. I haven’t smooched in a movie theater in years. It was so sweet to hold hands too. She rubbed my arm and caressed my hand, and I was even so bold as to rub her leg and knee. It was all very gentle and romantic. What a refreshing difference from the crap women I went on dates with a few months ago. But I’m really enjoying this elegant romantic odyssey.

There is one rub that I have to mention. It’s happened a few times since then. We call it the C-Block, or the CBs. Cherie and I are in the very back row of the theater. All the way in the aisle to the right against the wall. There is only one way out. Doesn’t some pair of fucknuts sit at the very end of the aisle? This couple just sort of drops it there. One row down would have been fine. But they are right now, in OUR aisle. They could have sat anywhere. There weren’t that many people in the theater. It’s just a human thing. Homo Sapiens are such social animals they have to be together all the time. I can tell Cherie doesn’t want them there and neither do I. But there’s nothing we can do. Nothing but make a bunch of trips to the snack bar and the bathrooms. This way we can thrust our delicious firm buttocks right in their stupid faces.

Oh, never mind. It’s just annoying, we just wanted some private time to neck in the back of the theater!

The movie was a pretty by the numbers horror flick. I’d give it a solid three and a half stars. Demon possession, scary children, and good sudden frights do make you jump. We shared the popcorn and the candy. It was lovely. I was happy to be there sharing this Halloween treat with her.

After the film, we went outside. The sun was out and the rain was gone. It had been warm during the week, but had suddenly turned chilly in the last couple of days. Cherie always has trouble finding a place to park in the city, but down by the movie theater there is always loads of parking spots. We walk over to her Saab, and hop in to get out of the chill. We’re chatting about our next move, (which I have already planned) and more kissing ensues. She tells me she was hoping I would agree to sit in the back of the theater so we could neck. It appears this girl really likes me. She says she likes how soft my hands are. It makes me think of Captain Quint when he grabs Matt Hooper’s hands in the film Jaws, and says “You’ve got city hands, Mr. Hooper, from counting money all your life!” That, and the scene in Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men” when one of the men on the farm puts petroleum jelly in his one glove to keep is hand soft for when he touches his woman. I don’t know why my mind flashed to those two images but for a moment they do.

I suggest we go over to Dave and Buster’s to go play games together. She likes the idea. I will say this about my lovely neuroscience major. She is very bright and quick of wit, but extremely laid back and easy-going. She’s from California, and this chick is chill. I always compliment her about her sweet disposition, because I really like that about her. Peaceful is good. She tells me, that between her two jobs, going to class, and taking care of her son, she has to make many decisions every day. She says she likes how I take charge, and just tell her where we’re going and what time it’s happening. I always have a plan and take the lead. She finds that attractive. So take note male readers, many women like to be told what you’re doing with them and where you’re taking them. Women are great negotiators and communicators, but when it comes to picking a lunch spot, just tell them pizza or sushi or just take them somewhere they serve different stuff and go. I have to give thanks here to my late father in regard to the clock. If he told you something was going to happen, or we were going to be somewhere at a specific time, it happened without error. He taught me that your word is your bond, and always be punctual. Like Beau Bridges says to Michelle Pfieffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys, “Punctuality is the first rule of show business.” Life itself is like a giant long series. You’re the star of your own show. Make it a fun, exciting show if you can. To sum up: Girls like a take-charge man.

Don’t be a guy.

Be a man.

 

 

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

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Marisa – Part I – The Friendly Hostess

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

I was sitting at the bar in the Sofitel hotel the other night with Church. Normally we would be at our other favorite bar, but it really depends on who’s working. The people and personalities are what really give life to a good bar. I love our other bar and adore the staff, but sometimes you have to change it up. What I love most about Sofitel is that it a quiet bar. It is plush and dark and classy. The staff knows us and Church is a beloved figure there. For once I am riding his coat tails here. His legend looms large here.

We’re sitting there chatting, and this lovely little Filipino hostess walks up and starts chatting with us. Obviously, dark almond eyes, raven hair, and olive skin. She looked late twenties or early thirties. It’s hard to tell. The bar is dark, and she looks young.

She immediately starts talking to us both, which is odd. The hostess or host never circle the bar and check on the clients. It’s refreshing and I love the attention. Church doesn’t know what to make of it, but I’m on it. She’s very sweet, and affable.

I’m sipping a martini, and I think Church was having a coffee. He excuses himself to the restroom, and I make my move. I give her a free tanning card for the salon and my new business card to the institute. I also ask her if she’d like to have lunch with me sometime. She says yes, and I type her name in my phone. I do my signature move, by handing her my phone. She instinctively types her number in and I have her. A swift and easy kill.

She says she has to go make her rounds and off she goes. Church returns and all is as it was. My friends know my life and what I do, but unlike some, I never reveal it all. That’s a sign of weakness. You have to always play your cards close to the vest. Give them all enough so that they trust you, but keep your dark powers to yourself. That’s what makes you who you are.

We hang for a bit, and she’s already texting me that she got cut early. Church loves being on his phone so it’s not unusual for me to be on mine at the same time. I’m texting her. She’s adorable, and based on her forwardness, I know she’s available.

We leave, and as usual, Church drives me home, which I really appreciate. It’s winter and my man makes sure I get home safe.

Marisa and I text each other over the next week or so and I try to set a lunch date. I have to be careful, but I have to be bold. I feel alive when I am negotiating deals. Whether it is in the boardroom or the bedroom. My lifestyle isn’t for everyone. If you can’t run with the big dogs, stay on the porch. I feel like the man I was in my late teens and early twenties again. But I’m now middle-aged. No more do I have the fears and trappings of a younger man. My time on Earth has taught me well. I have overcome all of the bullshit I carried around with me for years. Life is more simple now.

I’m in sales. I have a lot of lines in the water at all times. I only surround myself with good people now. It clears the mind. All of the crazies are gone to spin-off into the universe somewhere. It means nothing to me now. If this girl wants to have lunch with me, fine. If not, who cares. I am now surrounded by willing, eager candidates.

I am not being arrogant. I’m a gentleman, and will always be. It’s in my nature since I was a teenager. That will never change. But I am not getting any younger, and if things don’t move forward now, I have to move on and cut loose the detritus. There’s always more to do and more living to get to.

Based on our texts, Marisa seems a little bit erratic. She’ll text me at 10pm and ask me if I want to meet for a beer in the interim. I tell her I am home and going to sleep. I can’t tell her that I am sitting in my chair watching season eight of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, drinking vodka clubs and smoking cigarettes, in a ripped T-shirt and an old pair of shorts. I just don’t feel like moving. I’ll get to her when I get to her. On my time.

So I set the date. Lunch at one of my favorite spots. She gives off a flaky vibe, so I know I’ll have to hard confirm this one to make it happen. I can just sense these things now.

Here’s the thing. Mary works as hostess at this restaurant. I don’t know why I chose this place. It could be a “worlds collide” moment for any other man. But I dig the danger. I have romantic designs on Mary, and I’m bringing a fresh baby to my table on a day she’s working. Why would I do this? Because I know the risk is low, as well as the value of both of these women. I can pull it off. What could go wrong?

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday at 9am EST.

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Sarika – Back In The Widow’s Web

Surprise, surprise!

I left the salon after a meeting with Achilles about the fitness center. I wanted to hit Dan Dan, the Asian fusion restaurant and bar where my buddy, Chet works as bartender. I just wanted to unwind after a long day of work, and toss back a few chardonnays.

I was completely out of cigs, so I headed over to the nearest newsstand at 16th and Locust Street. I stood in line while a few people ahead of me were buying their lottery tickets. (Or as I call it, 401K for the poor) I realized I didn’t have enough cash so I got out of line and headed to the little store down on Spruce.

I get my smokes and I head back up 16th street. I get to the intersection at Locust street again, and who do I see crossing the street from me but Sarika! She’s smiling and waving.

I’m wondering how this is possible and it almost seems surreal. I know she looked up at me two weeks ago at Parc and then looked away. I just assumed she had read the blogs about her and she now hated me.

But here she is smiling and looking gorgeous as always. She apologizes for being all sweaty but she says she just came from a spin class at Flywheel across the street.

She still looks sexy as hell. Sweat beading on her forehead, her raven tresses askew and curling about her shoulders. I can see her nipples poking through her wet sports bra. I think this is how she would look after a session with me.

But I digress…

She’s lively and a bit out of breath. We catch up on what’s been happening in our lives. I talk about the fitness center and she goes on about how much she has had to travel lately for her job. She says she recently got a raise. She’s obviously killing it as an engineer/scientist. Brains and beauty.

I ask her if she’d like to join me at Dan Dan for a drink, but she said she’s too sweaty and gross to go anywhere. She just wants to go home.

She says she met a guy she likes. I think she said they met in Atlanta, but he lives in Florida. All of these long distance relationships. But when you think about it, in this day and age it’s not that bad. Sarika travels so much it’s nothing for her to hop on a plane and jet down to Florida for a few days. She can afford it and she’s accustomed to traveling.

I’m happy to hear that she’s doing well and not mad at me. I guess when she said she was reading my blog a few months ago she missed the stuff about her. Bullet dodged!

She says she has to go to Boston this weekend, but will be back next week. She’d like to meet up for a drink.

So I’m happy about this little twist. I’ll let sleeping dogs lie, and we’ll move forward from here.

Sarika is back!

 

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

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