I Want To Believe There Is A

Perhaps It's Not That I'm Frigid-- It's That Once I Decide I Like A Guy, I Turn Into A Raging Idiot, Unfit For Public Appearances.

Therefore. Ergo. Erg. Argh. Ugh.

But I Know The Difference. Everyone Else Is A Ghost. I Exist Here Alone, Stranded By Choice. Deserted.

When Is The Night Over? Is It The Start Of Sunrise Or The End Of It? Is It When You Finally Go To Sleep Or Simply When You Realize That You Have To?

But, You See, That's The Luxury Of Being A Lout - You Get To Be Selective About When You Care And When You Don't. The Rest Of Us Get Stuck When Your Care Goes Shallow.