“You deserve it.”
New Year’s Eve
People get really into preparing holiday meals— in the same way, people become almost disturbingly enthused about holiday sex.
I had two choices: Break up with John and lose Drew or stay with John and at the very least, grow a friendship with this man that had me feeling like I was going to throw up, in a good way.
I find her amazingly passionate. We were in the middle of something, and I said, “Wow, quiet little Ronna, who would have thought?” and she stopped and looked at me and smiled and kissed me again.
I just want to be 79 years old so I can watch Boy Meets World re-runs in peace and not feel guilty for wasting my perky breasts and small wrists on a gallon of ice cream and Ben Savage in all his 11-year-old prime. I AM A SQUARE.
I think to myself, “Oh, this is how it works. I’m the guy that tells her jokes, and he’s the guy with two duffel bags of pot who has sex with her afterwards.” I realize that I have been hopelessly “Baby New Yeared.”
It’s been said that a malnourished, Cambodian infant dies every time a cougar shakes her be-sequined bum.
I remember many New Year’s Eve celebrations from years past in which a part of the party was stuffing my face with as many Kit Kat bars and Cool Ranch Doritos and cupcakes as I possibly could.
Finding your soulmate is not like interviewing applicants for a door greeter job at Wal-Mart (if it were, you probably wouldn’t still be single, or reading this article).
2. George Clooney is never getting married.