I, was wearing
purple polka-dotted crotchless panties, yellow fuzzy tap dancing shoes and
rainbow knee-high socks with swirly peace signs. On my tits, I had disco
pasties. I have sicc multi-colored dreads.
You, had a green
goatee, and no pants. A cow patterned blazer, No shirt. Sicc tatts.
I saw you hula'n on
the multi-colored flying dragon art-car as I was riding my TIGHT cruzer thru da
sicc playa dust.
We made eye-contact
and never saw each again! Hope the universe brings us together. Namaste.
P.s. my name is Raven.
p.p.s we saw each other at burning man.
The truth is my crotchless panties are striped
OMG JUST KIDDING MOM I had a little missed connection of my own last week.
The above writer’s schizophrenic commitment to commas notwithstanding, it turns
out that I, egg had a missed
connection with You, sperm. Namaste.
Also: ofcourseyournameisraven.
I went to the doctor this week for a follow up
appointment in case I needed additional confirmation that I am BARREN
not pregnant. In addition to not being with child, I am also apparently on the
accelerated ovulation track (note to my first grade gifted and talented program:
you failed to account for this particular predilection). Basically, I
ovulate(d) too early. Although my follicles “looked great” and the nurse
provided all
kinds of false hope, my progesterone levels were already elevated by the
time of my day 12 wanding. By the
time of my post-coital headstands, it was probably too late.
