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Old 03-11-2005, 11:40 PM   #31
Cadaverous Pallor
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Gemini Cricket
By the way, Ralphie knows this story. He knows of Nate. They both want to meet each other. Size each other up... Men!
Women do the same thing.
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Old 03-11-2005, 11:44 PM   #32
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Cadaverous Pallor
Women do the same thing.
:looks Jen up and down: No, we don't.
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Miles: It tastes like the back of a f*ing L.A. school bus. Now they probably didn't de-stem, hoping for some semblance of concentration, crushed it up with leaves and mice, and then wound up with this rancid tar and turpentine bull****. F*in' Raid.
Jack: Tastes pretty good to me.

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Old 03-11-2005, 11:51 PM   #33
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Claire
:looks Jen up and down: No, we don't.
*looks Claire up and down, realizes this chick isn't worth answering and walks away*
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Old 03-11-2005, 11:52 PM   #34
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Ooh. Catfight!
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Old 03-11-2005, 11:53 PM   #35
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Quote:
Originally Posted by €uroMeinke
I thought I had “one that got away” – but when the moment came, I let her go.

Her name was Cyndi, though it should have been trouble. I met her in high school, though I don’t think she ever attended class. You might think I exaggerate this point, but honestly, I don’t think she was ever enrolled there.

Cyndi was every teenage boy’s dream, sexy, attractive, playful, and she new it, making her the ultimate tease. I longed for her even as I dated and fell in love with my high school sweetheart. We spent long evenings together, sipping wine, listening to music, chatting till 2:00 in the morning, when I had to bring her home and sober up for school the next morning.

She told remarkable stories, pathological liar that she was. The lives she lived, the experiences she detailed were far too complex and time consuming to fit into her 15 years. But I was painfully shy in high school, so I never tried to do anything more than spend time with her, listen to her stories, and plan how we would dress and look for the next event. Except for one moment, on my 18th birthday when I caught her in my arms and we kissed one of those remarkable first kisses that stop time and intoxicate you more than any drug. But it never went any further. It was a moment that vanished, perhaps both of us too embarrassed to admit it ever happen, or me too insecure to explore how mutual our feelings might be.

So off I went to college, where I talked about her constantly so that my roommates came to long for her as well despite being 2000 miles away. I couldn’t wait to get back home and find out the latest of where she was, what she was doing, and whether or not she was available. Of course during this time she was dating other friends of mine, so I held back and waited, biding my time.

But as my college days came to an end, I had met someone else who pulled at my heart. A friend of a friend through some bands we both knew. She was someone I could talk to for hours, she complemented me in every way, and I was falling for her. You know her here as Not Afraid. Of course it was then that Cyndi became available as I discovered in a trip to of all places Disneyland, where I took her home last. We sat in front of her house forever, and while again we did nothing more than talk, the confessionals made it clear she was interested in me.

I couldn’t sleep that night, my stomach in knots. I called Lisa the next day, and confessed my age-old-longings for Cyndi and my desire to pursue her. She remained quiet and stoic through that gut-wrenching phone call, and told me to go do what I had to do.

But I never called Cyndi, I never set out to see her again. The instant I hung up the phone I had a moment of both clarity and terror – I had made the wrong decision. Cyndi was an imaginary construct of all my unfulfilled desires. Lisa was real, was someone I loved, and just dumped in the most ungracious of ways.

I went to her house and waited for her to come home, to confess my regret and stupidity. Thankfully, she invited me into her Celica where she forgave me of my foolishness. I let one get away, but I almost lost one more precious.
That is so sweet!
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Old 03-11-2005, 11:59 PM   #36
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Cadaverous Pallor
*looks Claire up and down, realizes this chick isn't worth answering and walks away*
Bitch.
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Miles: It tastes like the back of a f*ing L.A. school bus. Now they probably didn't de-stem, hoping for some semblance of concentration, crushed it up with leaves and mice, and then wound up with this rancid tar and turpentine bull****. F*in' Raid.
Jack: Tastes pretty good to me.

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Old 03-12-2005, 12:02 AM   #37
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Claire
:looks Jen up and down: Where's your 'LUT' shirt?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Cadaverous Pallor
*looks Claire up and down, realizes this chick wants to lick her*
Quote:
Originally Posted by Ghoulish Delight
Dear diary...jackpot. Giggity giggity
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Old 03-12-2005, 12:04 AM   #38
Cadaverous Pallor
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*smacks "Quagmire" upside the head*

*rethinks*

*looks online to purchase a LUT shirt*
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Old 03-12-2005, 12:04 AM   #39
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Since I don't believe in "love" and all that stuff, I can look back at this with a slightly different eye.

Romantic? Maybe.
Tragic? Maybe.

No violins, no Barry Manillow, no tears, no secret abortions, no cheating, no betrayal, and no lies.

Around 1987, I was traveling with my family back to the homestead in Colorado. We'd just come from California for a visit. Halfway back, in Santa Fe New Mexico, our 1975 Ford Bronco broke down and we were stuck in that desert town. We had to wait a couple days for the parts to show up and we spent most of the time in the hotel pool. The first morning, my dad and I went to the Ford dealer to figure out what to do, leaving the rest of the family behind. I wanted to stay at the hotel, but my dad insisted I go and not to get far into that subject, but going anywhere with my dad was pure torture. Briefly, he would order food for me and preach from the bible constantly. So that morning after standing in the dealership that smelled of grease and ass, we went for breakfast at this little Mom&Pop hole in the wall resteraunt across the street. It smelled of Strawberry' from what I remember and as usual my dad ordered my food for me.

As we ate, I noticed a very attractive girl bussing the tables. Might be a daughter of the Mom& Pop in a Cinderella-esk type way, who knows. I was instantly infatuated with her, believing that she was everything I'd ever wanted. In those 20 minutes or so, I lived a whole life, thinking about the who's, what's, how's and where's. I truly grew old with her in that time.

She eventually took my plate and I really wanted to say something, but didn't. I played that scene over and over for years, and embarrassing still to this day. Rehearsing what I'd say, maybe something like I though she was beautiful. But I never did say anything and the next day, we left Santa Fe and went home. I remember her all the time. Didn’t know her name, who she was, or where that dinner was in that desert town- I doubt I could find it today. All I knew was that deep feeling about dead center, a certain pressure beyond the surface of my heart, somewhere deep in my soul that I won't revisit again.

My .02
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Old 03-12-2005, 12:05 AM   #40
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When I burst out laughing just now, my husband anxiously yelled, "What? Did they tell you to say bye bye?"

FINE. BYE BYE!!!

I'm rolling.....thanks for the funnies everyone!
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Miles: It tastes like the back of a f*ing L.A. school bus. Now they probably didn't de-stem, hoping for some semblance of concentration, crushed it up with leaves and mice, and then wound up with this rancid tar and turpentine bull****. F*in' Raid.
Jack: Tastes pretty good to me.

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