August 6, 2009 at 2:03 pm (Total BS)

So Peter is having a contest… ish. (You know Peter, right? If not go! now! read! We’ll wait.) And in his own frustratingly adorable way, he has been twisting arms to get bloggers across the ‘sphere to play along. So I’m playing. I guess. I mean sorta. Kinda? A little bit.

(I’m also hoping that calling Peter adorable will help my chances.)

All I had to do was write a little fiction (exactly 100 words) about love. As you may or may not know, I don’t do fiction. Ever. But I would do a lot of things I don’t usually do for a virtual lapdance. Feel free to keep that in mind.


She lay across him forming an X on the bed, her attention on the alarmist non-fiction beneath her chin. Kevin was watching WWE (on mute as a concession to her). His broad, square fingertips traced her Achilles and came to rest behind her knee, but she shook him off.

“That tickles.”

“Marry me.”

It wasn’t a question.

She crawled up to put her cheek to the soft fuzz of his stomach and hooked a finger in the waistband of his boxers. He lifted her hair off her neck and held it.

“I’ll consider it,” she whispered, and thought of Jake.

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April 23, 2009 at 9:06 pm (Total BS)

I’m sorry for calling out his name once during sex.
I’m not sorry for thinking it every time we got naked.

*You know what part of this I forgot when I posted it the first time? The part where I explain that this is a complete fabrication. Oops.

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