What I said the other day? About needing a massage, makeover and orgasm, in whatever order? Did I mention I’m willing to pay for ALL of them, if necessary?
And it’s sooooooo necessary. …
Dear Goddess,
I don’t know why you’re torturing me right now. Please lift the drama from my life. Or else send the sharpest knife you can find so I can slit my dainty little wrists appropriately.
And that two- to three-date curse? Yeah. I’m pretty sick of that shit, too. It’s not their fault they suck; but maybe it’s my fault that I realize it too early on. Give me some damn oblivion, will ya?
Anything you can do, y’know. We deity-types need to stick together.
Love,
Goddess