You Crafty Fucker

You think you can reel me in with snarky, albeit covertly charming, commentaries on the sad exsistence you lead? You think that subtle, back-handed compliments make me look forward to talking with you?

Oh no sir, I may be blonde, but I am not blind. I see that you use the same tactic on every new girl you meet. I notice the several other girls who you've got convinced that you like them but are too shy to say so. They're all thinking "Oh he's nice to her, but I'm the one he wants." What they don't know is that secretly you want none of them, and you're actually lusting after this imaginary dream girl culmination of all of them.

You, sir, are leading these girls on in a way you didn't even know you were capable of. You underestimated your own flirting ability, doing so carelessly and excessively because you never thought it would yield results. But it has, oh it has.

And now, the time has come, you crafty fucker, to make up your mind. Either you have to embrace your girl-getting gift, or shun it, but for God's sake, don't just continue flirting with every girl that you find interesting because it works.

It works. You're nonchalant, half-kidding flirtation works. Dammit.


Mrawrrr (the sound Cornelius the kitty makes)
Julia