Times Like These

Dear Me,

What’s up, slut?

That’s funny cause you’re not a slut. Get it?

Anyway, I’m typing this to you on my phone (technically our phone) from the couch because I don’t feel like walking into the dining room where my (our) laptop has sat dormant for months just waiting on someone to open her up and discover the wonders she holds inside.

Truth is, I’ve been all wondered out for the better part of a year. The games on my phone that want me to connect dots and make words and match tiles are the only things getting my attention lately. But you already know that, obviously. Since you’re me and I’m you and whatnot.

But back to being a non-slut. I think we should work really hard on slutting around in 2022. It’s almost over for us, bitch. Use it or lose it, am I right??? Besides, we’ve got lots of lost time to make up for and let’s face it, no one is coming for us. No one is gearing up and readying their stallion for the dangerous and perilous journey to our door. No one is coming to throw us over their shoulder and set off into the sunset to some tropical island to eat coconuts and then fish and fuck all day, all the while reveling in the wonder of our love and making tiny babies that will one day stand at our grave side clutching their chest at the memory of our union.

Shut the fuck up if you didn’t seriously believe that was going to happen someday. Maybe not exactly like that but, yeah, you totally thought you were gonna get a happily ever after.

Well, tits, you’re not. This is it for us. It’s time to stop daydreaming at the window for our Prince Charming and open the front door and let Jimmy and Junior in already. They brought us some box wine and their Aunt June’s onion and cheese casserole. It won first place at the tri-county potluck. That’s a big deal. There were 35 entries in the Casserole category alone. The winner, Jimmy’s Aunt June, got a years worth of fried onions from Millers Grocery (everyone knows they make the best topping for casseroles) and a ride on the Christmas float in the yearly parade. She’s practically a celebrity. Now get in the kitchen and whip up a meatloaf to go with that famous casserole. Jimmy and Junior are hungry and they want you (us) for dessert.

We both know we’re not gonna lose our slutginity for Jimmy or Junior, so get your panties out of a wad, sis.

Listen. Remember how mom always calls us “the come back kid?” Well, now’s our time to shine. 2022 is our coming up party. We never knew we needed one but we’ve been locked in here staring out the window our whole damn lives. It’s dusty and smelly and I can no longer breathe in here.

I’m opening the door.

Are you coming with me?

Let’s blow this joint wide open and never look back.

The world is one giant dick and its our turn on the ride.

We’ve waited long enough.

Let’s make that mother fucker explode.

See you in 2022, slut.

One thought on “Times Like These

  1. Lomyski September 21, 2022 / 1:24 pm

    Frida Kahlo was able to let her painting speaks to us
    Your formation of the phrases here is going the same way … that only difference that your words touches our heart and speaks of our feelings

    Those games mentioned yes they are the only games i play at this age

    Those promises to myself that this year will different and that I will open the door to explore a new me … something i do every year

    Thanks for this amazing description that deeply went to my soul

    Like

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