Second Chance Idol Week 2: Irreversible
Sometimes I just want to throw some shit.
Or better yet, destroy it. Turn into that old cliché of the jealous bitch who can’t be kept at bay when her man decides to go astray. Too bad for his Chevrolet. Ha. It’s time for a metal filet. Mignon. So long!
But why stop at a vehicle? From the window to the wall, I’ll have a brawl and demolish it all. See, he really dropped the ball and I’m beyond appalled. His so-called love was about as legit as O.J.’s glove and I damn sure won’t acquit. I’m havin’ my fit.
And as he discovers his indiscretions were the source of my aggressions he has the nerve to ask me 21 questions. Like he went and turned into 50 Cent. And so my final dissent would be quite a bit ugly as I spoke rather smugly, “I will love you in a Bentley. I will love you on a bus. But I sure as hell won’t love you if your dick’s in some trick’s puss.”
Of course I lied. Because I still do.
Or better yet, destroy it. Turn into that old cliché of the jealous bitch who can’t be kept at bay when her man decides to go astray. Too bad for his Chevrolet. Ha. It’s time for a metal filet. Mignon. So long!
But why stop at a vehicle? From the window to the wall, I’ll have a brawl and demolish it all. See, he really dropped the ball and I’m beyond appalled. His so-called love was about as legit as O.J.’s glove and I damn sure won’t acquit. I’m havin’ my fit.
And as he discovers his indiscretions were the source of my aggressions he has the nerve to ask me 21 questions. Like he went and turned into 50 Cent. And so my final dissent would be quite a bit ugly as I spoke rather smugly, “I will love you in a Bentley. I will love you on a bus. But I sure as hell won’t love you if your dick’s in some trick’s puss.”
Of course I lied. Because I still do.