"This girl V who is depressed and insecure and takes Prozac, who i've had the casual thing with, texts me after i get back from France after i say i would like to see her on Thursday for maybe a jazz dinner:
(the following text conversation plays out over 1hour 30 minutes)
V:"i dont know. i didnt see you since 1 week and you dont plan to see me until the end of the week?!? there is no passion between us. its too flat for me"
(alone in a hotel bar having a beer, providing the only audience to the house pianist)
C:"yes i suppose youre right. i dont need passion that much and i know you do. We're too different in that case"
V: "Fine"
(now i'm alone on a park bench in hyde park smoking a fag and watching the sun go down)
C:"Well hang on. I can still see you. Just that im a guy who appreciates and needs a level of solitude. I know as well that you always need someone to be there. I dont think i can provide that, to you or anyone else right now. I dont expect you to understand that. I hardly understand it myself"
V:"where are you now"
(now in my car)
C:"in a car on my way home"
(on further reflection, a slight stirring in my loins)
C:"Come round tonight. I would like that"
V:"what is your address?"
So she came round and we had sex.
Unsatisfying sex with No Country For Old Men playing on my big screen."
To which the half cunt replied:
"How fucking great is that film? Only people like us understand its 100% perfect. Again, there's not that many of us."
And he was absolutely right. It is a great film
Unsatisfying sex with No Country For Old Men playing on my big screen."
To which the half cunt replied:
"How fucking great is that film? Only people like us understand its 100% perfect. Again, there's not that many of us."
And he was absolutely right. It is a great film
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