Earlier on today, I was amidst a hardcore weight session... I'd done approximately 100 kettlebell swings, some shoulder presses and the testosterone was pumping threw my veins
I return to my bedroom, and see the phone vibrating, I didn't recognise the number:
Girl: I'm at number 10 on your street
Me: Erm okay
Girl: I can't remember which number you live in
Me: It's number 77...
Girl: Okay, I'll be there in a minute
I hurriedly wash my face, my hair greasy, I race down the stairs and she's there
me: come up
I do a bit cocky+funny to totally pump her state up, teasing her about various shit, and I think about turning up unannounced, dominant, assertiveness, honesty, authenticity, my new thing: huge vocabulary, hardcore kino, testosterone pumping in glorious synergy.
I put on some gangsta music on iTunes, and had to laugh at the hilarity of songs such as 'I'm a player' coming on
Commece makeout for about an hour, get her to tidy my room. She literally does the best job ever. I'm slightly, no, actually, I'm *really* horrified at how much stuff I have.
I have some serious fucking feng shui going now.
Get back into bed. Unleash the karma sutra oil
:)
Walk her to the bus-stop.
I realise this isn't the most eloquent, perfectly constructed post of all-time, but eh.
Glorious day.
:)
Okay, I'm off to the gym again: to pump my nimbus some more, and get my abs more ripped and popping for the cherishing of the lady.
-Michael
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