I'm ready, dammit!

I want to marry him. Right now.
To merge our lives completely. To spend every night together.
Not to be continents apart for half a year... :(

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  • LMAO wow, sorry bout that, poor choice of words on my part... but no darling, sorry to say I am not. Which is surprising, what with all this talk of b******* and rolls of lard. That usually gets me all hot and bothered....

  • Well you can just pretend you're having s** with two girls, instead of just one. Ironic thing is, I'm about 110 lbs, soaking wet...oh well

  • Just a b******? Boy, you're easy to please... Thought you might have come up with a much more creative way for me to prove my unnatural and undying love for you.

  • LMAO whoever is leaving these "fat" comments is the new love of my life... maybe we should get married, and you can move continents away, and I can spend my days here confessing that i miss you, or that I just got tricked into dressing up like a german beer wench and blowing your best friend. But you know, it's his fault, for using me. Then when you come back, I can confess how annoying you are, and that I'm still painfully in love with said b****** friend. We can divorce, I'll keep the kids, and confess how I hack your email and read all about your new girlfriend. Our children will hate us, because of our constant bickering and one-upmanship. When we're old and gross, I'll be fat of course, and you can confess to a life-long love of dressing up in your mother-in-law's dominatrix outfit while she took photos to share with her bridge friends. Then you'll die first of course, and I can confess how much I miss you, and that if I could take back my whoring ways I would. I will play the victim, the widow, for the rest of my life, even though we hated each other, you died alone, and on your death bed told me, "You're still fat."

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