it’s hard out here for a milf

i mean, i suppose.

i’m great-full to the store for the reflections of womanhood past, present, and future, even when they come like ghosts which make me muthafuckin’ scrooge.

(and not even the fun one that somehow doesn’t hurt himself diving through gold coins, either).

this one goes out to the straw that broke the camel’s back with this one particular milf.

she’s fucking hot. smoking hot. the whole visual package.

but i’m over how she has nothing to talk about if not the shortcomings of mens.

she claims that she just wants to get laid, but has not followed my advice to do so, which was to start a tinder account, post a picture of herself and write “i don’t care about your feelings”.

clearly, she wants more than to swipe right. or be swiped.

but, after (what seems like) years of hearing her complain about men-i’m over it.

feeling like the lancome lady, i was trapped into a corner of her telling me the story of how she had sex with an unattractive man (again) but she finds him sexy somehow. from the autistic to the slovenly to the social losers-she’s put herself out there time and time again doing charity for these zeros, and they still somehow leave her hanging.

seeing her makes me kind of sad, reminds me that i don’t want anyone’s confusing energy, and i don’t want to give off any confusing energy, and i really don’t want to get to the place where i’m so delusional about what i want that i’m her.

i wish her all the best, truly. i just don’t want to fucking hear about it any more.

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