Four years ago a seemingly eternally single friend of mine and I went out to dinner on Valentine's Day. We dined on yummy Italian food (a theme we seem to have going), and even picked off of one another's plates. We shared a molten chocolate dessert cake. People around us gazed at their beautiful Valentine's Day dates, the men pretending to care long enough to get shagged once they left the restaurant. And there we sat, looking like two lesbians. And quite frankly, if I was going to be mistaken as a lesbian when not in the company of Scarlett and Angelina, this friend wouldn't be as bad a choice as say, Rosie O'Donnell. But I digress...And so an annual ritual has ensued: every V-Day we grab a bite to eat together and bitch about how pathetic the "holiday" is, me secretly wishing I had a man who would fly me to Paris for a day and let me shop for shoes with wanton passion, and she secretly wishing she had...well...a man. This year will be no different, save for the addition of two more friends. Instead of looking like a hot lesbian couple, our well-dressed group will resemble elite prostitutes, roaming the SoHo region of New York, followed by our Gaysian *Fleiss.
Good times will be had by all.
*My sexy pimp suggested I use the more befitting Madam surname, Fleiss, to exhibit his profiteering talents.
3 comments:
$1,300 per is the fee.
-Gaysian Fleiss (Better than pimp no?)
So much better. I'll have to edit that.
I don't consider what I do "for profit." Rather, when you have insanely gorgeous specimens of females like vous, I consider it a religous & moral imperative to, in essence, say: check it out! (After your credit card clears of course).
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