The one who loved my eyes.
The one who loved my long '80s hair.
The one who loved my ass, back when it was tight.
The one who loved my act more than she loved me.
The one who loved my kilts.
The one who loved her dog more than any man.
The one who loved me more than was healthy.
The one who was so sweet it hurt.
The one who loved sex more than anything.
The one who loved my car.
The one who loved Star Trek way too much.
The one who loved my voice – well, she loved any tenor, really.
The one who loved my uniform. And the handcuffs.
The one that I made old, though she was ten years my junior.
The one that drove me to madness, while I navigated.
The one that clung to me, despite my infidelity.
The one I swore was a demon, for the hell she wrought in me.
The one who gave me up for Lent.
The one who conceived, and aborted before I could argue.
The one I couldn't let go, even as she ripped me bloody.
The one who was turned on by watching me fight.
The one who is still mad at me.
The one who sticks pins in a doll that looks like me.
The one who joined a 12-step program because of me.
The one who leads a support group that helps others survive me.
The one who held hands with me at recess.
The one I could never quite get up the nerve to talk to.
The one who first kissed me, and told her friends it was great.
The one who dressed - and broke in my hands - just like a doll.
The one I wish I'd never met.
The one I wish I'd had sex with.
The one I wish I hadn't lied to.
The one I wish had lied to me a bit longer.
The one I wish I hadn't said "no" to.
The one I wish I could find again today.
The one I wish I had married.
The one I divorced.
The one with no regrets.
The one with no inhibitions.
The one with no common sense.
The one with no gag reflex.
The one with the great rack.
The one with the great ass.
The one with the great legs.
The one with all of that and no brain.
The one with terrifying piercings.
The one who ignored me, then loved me after she left the state.
The one from that night in 1984, who was actually a man.
And the one who was first; she still appears in my dreams sometimes, when the weather is warm.
Women, a Non-Chronological History
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14 comments:
My fav made the list. And it makes me proud of you.
i think i'm gonna cry... the ending was too sweet to be evil... you really do have a soft caramel and nougat center
Neat! One is obviously about me, but since you said several were about me, I'm stumped. What are the other ones?
80 lines about 40 women...
If only it was as cool as "88 lines about 44 women" by the Nails. Great song by a great band from Colorado...
oh whoops 88 lines.
This is really interesting.
I want...need...to know who each line is about.
Tell me pleassseeeee....
Um... NO.
ok... i need to know. Don't I get points for going right home and checking? At least give me a hint... please? Don't make me beg. And, let us note, total honesty would be puting names by each of them, Honesty Man.
Begging is good for the soul...
Okay, fine, I'm begging.
Wow, that's hot...
Yeah, I know, I'm hot. I don't like to beg for it, but I will if you make me. Please, your sinfullness, please! I am not whole without it. I lay awake, thinking about it. Oh, why must you play these games with my heart?
I almost believe you... Drop me an email so we can continue this conversation without further polluting the comments window.
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