Condolences
In choosing the appropriate funerary attire, today’s fashion forward woman must remember that modesty and style are not mutually exclusive.
Dress to impress, is what I always say. Especially when it comes to impressing your man.
Don’t roll your eyes. Just because it’s a funeral doesn’t mean a girl shouldn’t strut her stuff. After all, why waste an opportunity?
For this occasion I’ve decided on a delicious backless number that is the perfect blend of “so sorry,” and “fuck me senseless.” Will’s a sucker for a sexy back.
Highlight your assets. Remember that.
If you ask me, he doesn’t stand a chance.
Now, they normally recommend that women with bigger breasts wear a bra (backless or adhesive), but since mine are so perky I’m thinking why bother. Borderline inappropriate, I know, but it’s not like I’m upstaging a bride or anything. Besides, the only one who would’ve said anything will be laying in a box.
Ugh, I so hope it’s not an open casket. Cancer death is gross.
Anyway, like I was saying, I’ll have Will squirming in his seat and eating out of my hand in no time at all – especially since I’ll be going commando.
Remember: ass-crack done right is anything but trashy.
Thomas couldn’t decide if I was a sexy bitch or an evil cunt. “Can’t a girl be both,” is what I asked him.
After I left Banana I made plans to up to Will’s parent’s house. I guess it’s his just Dad’s house now, but anyway, I figured Will needed someone to comfort him. What can I say, I’m nice that way. Though I could really do without this three hour drive. It fucking blows.
No wonder people drink and drive.
So I could tell Will is really taking this hard. Don’t ask me why. I mean it’s not like they didn’t know it was coming. Hello! She had cancer for fuck’s sake. Probably gonna die soon! Don’t get me wrong, it’s really sad and “oh so tragic,” but if you want my opinion he’s really being a vag about the whole thing. Seriously, when my folks die I can tell you I won’t be a bitch about it.
It’s no surprise though. He’s always been an emotional homo. I’m just glad he didn’t start crying. God knows I’m gonna see enough of that soon.
I don’t know what it is, but the concept of guys crying weirds me out. They look so funny when they do it. The last time I saw Will cry was when we broke up and it took every bone in my body not to start laughing at him. His face got all crunched up and his nose got all flairy, it was odd. The best part was he totally did the whole hyperventilation thing. I almost peed my pants.
You don’t have to tell me I’m mean, I’ve known that for years, but I’ll admit that lately I’ve been a grade-A cunt. See, who says I’m not capable of self-reflection? So I don’t do it on the level Will does, big effing deal. If you ask me, that’s what got him into so much trouble. There’s a reason people shouldn’t acknowledge their faults – especially those with as many as Will. Cripes, I’m shocked he didn’t try killing himself sooner.
What? You’re surprised? Listen, you think I didn’t know the guy was jacked when I first started dating him? Hmph. Well let me tell you, I had him pegged right away. I can spot needy from a mile away.
But every once and a while a girl needs a project to keep her busy. Honestly, looking back I could’ve done better. Not that I failed or anything. Oh well, I’ll get it right this time.
The poop of it is, I’m going to have to apologize. Or at least act like I’m sorry or sad or something resembling remorseful. Who knows? I guess I’ll just have to see how things play out.
A girl has to keep her options open is what I always say.
If you ask me, that’s worth remembering.
* * *
It’s worth noting that I always knew things wouldn’t work out with Heath. Seriously, I knew how that thing would end before it even started. Well, I know how it will end, ’cause I can’t really say it’s over yet. We’ve got a few loose ends to tie off. Anywho, he’s a fucktard and a lousy lay. Any woman who wants to spend their life with a guy like that is probably a bull dyke or something. Mildly retarded at the very least. But that’s just my opinion.
If you’ve ever wondered what a micro-penis looks like just ask me. I’ll show you a picture of Heath’s. Well, I won’t really show you anything cause there’s not much to see (Hah!), but I can describe it.
It won’t take long. (Ha ha ha)! Pun intended mister!
Am I on a role or what?
Not that I’ve done coke, but I bet I’d be pretty entertaining. I can tell you I’d look sexy as shit doing it. Like Uma Thurman in Pulp Fiction. I know that was heroin, but she thought it was coke. Lots of people say I look like her. I look like lots of famous people, so they say.
Will said I always reminded him of Sophie Marceau. She’s French so I don’t blame you for not knowing who she is. She was in Braveheart – you know, that Mel Gibson movie about the English dude? – anyway, if you still don’t know who she is, trust me, she’s gorgeous. But my lips are fuller. And she’s a little hippy if you ask me.
You should know that Red Bull and cigarettes mess with your mind.
Seriously, why the hell I ever agreed to drive to Will’s is beyond me. Remind me to disagree with myself from time to time 
The question is: when I see him, should I cry? Hug him and say sorry? Cry and hug him? Or whisk him away and let him fuck me? That’d be soo much easier. Think I’d offend anyone if I just dropped to my knees and blew him?
I have to admit I look pretty hot with a cock in my mouth. I know, I’ve seen the video.
Remember: bat your eyes at the camera – it gives the impression innocence and enjoyment. Seduction is the most powerful weapon a girls got.
That’s the thing with Will, by the end he was just starting to open up, just starting to understand what it was that got me off. Heath never really understood that. He liked to say he did, but I could see he didn’t get it. I mean, seriously, only a Puritanical fag would be get that freaked out by a rape fantasy. Hello, I’m a submissive, like I’m going to give you permission to do those things. Just fucking do them already. For fucks sake, like a cock that small will rip anyone’s asshole.
Anyway, Will’s eyes are starting to open, only this time I’m going to help him along. Together we’ll understand each other. Communication is the glue that holds us together, that’s what I always say.
But enough about sexual predispositions, we ladies refrain from engaging in such lurid conversation.
Back to dead people.
Can you believe the timing of this whole thing? I know I can’t. I mean, I believe in karma and all that stuff but this is just crazy. I mean it’s like the Gods or fates or whatever knew that Will needed me in his life. He can’t say we weren’t meant to be together.
No one can.
Go Getter
Fuck that guy. That’s all I’ve got to say about that. Fuck him and his fat fuck of a whore bag wife. He hates you. Whatever bitch. Keep telling yourself that and maybe someday it’ll come true. Yeah right.
Fuck him. I don’t need this shit. I so don’t need it.
His stupid ass doesn’t realize he’s giving up the best thing that ever happened to him. I’m his goddamn meal ticket for Christ’s sake. But you know what? If he wants to stay with that plain Jane cow, more power to him.
I don’t need him.
I’ve got Will.
Well, I will have Will. Will have will. That sounds funny doesn’t it? Anyway, he doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to make his worthless life worth living again. That is if he’s still alive 
J/K. I know he is. He’s still on Facebook. Some chick is in his profile picture. What’s up with that? Probably his counselor or something. Ha ha.
I should really call him.
* * *
So you’d think the asshole would answer his phone. I’ve left, I dunno, twenty messages or something and he won’t call back. Hello, you’re so being a major dick right now. I bet he thinks he’s pretty cool screening his calls, like this is some game or something. As if it takes Machiea-whoever to see this is a fucking power play. Lame.
This one time back in 8th grade, before the whole bi thing was totally cool, me and my best friend Tammy got into this huge fight because she started hanging out with this bitch she knew I hated. She did it on purpose just to piss me off. Seriously, why else would she have hung out with a complete dork like Heidi Schmidt? Anyway, she thought she was all smart thinking she could make me all jealous and shit, so I spread a rumor that I busted the two of them making out. At first people didn’t believe me. They were like, “nuh uh, no way Tammy is a lesbo.” But then I said that one time when she was staying over we got wasted, and in the middle of the night I woke up because she was trying to put her hands down my pants. After that got out, no one would give her the time of day except for the pervs just looking for an easy lay. Seriously, she would fuck any dude smart enough to tell her she was pretty or nice or worth a damn. It was pathetic.
The week before graduation she killed herself while her parents were at church.
The remaining friends she had blamed me for it, saying if I wouldn’t of spread that bullshit rumor she never would have been like this.
I said that if it wasn’t for my “bullshit” rumor they would’ve never been friends with Tammy.
So anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, Will’s a cunt (love that word). But he’ll take me back because he’ll think I want him back.
And I do. Kind of. Well maybe not that bad, but being with him is better than being single. Besides, when you date a guy like Will it’s almost like being single cause you can totally do whatever you want whenever you want. Really, he’s basically a dildo that talks. Though sometimes I wish he couldn’t
But I can deal.
* * *
I’m at the mall. Again. Banana is having a sale. Bitches like Denise maybe okay with wearing last year’s fashions, but I’ve actually got some taste and self-respect, so I need new clothes.
My friend Thomas is helping me out. He works there and if he wasn’t totally gay I’d consider dating him. As it is, at the moment we’re in the dressing room, he’s giving me his opinion. I’m horny so I’m trying to get him to give me something else.
“Put that thing away, Liz,” he whispered, crinkling his nose as he looked at my crotch. “It grosses me out.”
“Are you kidding,” I replied. “I’ve got the most beautiful vag you’ve ever seen.”
He shook his head and covered his mouth. “Ugh. You look like a twelve year old.”
“Like you don’t wax.”
“Not there,” he said.
“Yeah well, I wax there too.” I turned around and slowly bent over. “Close your eyes and use your imagination. You won’t even be able to tell the difference.”
He just giggled. “You’re such a slut.”
I gave myself a spank on the ass and stood up. “Damn right.”
He shoved a black leather skirt at me and rolled his eyes. “You so need some help.”
My phone started ringing.
“Shut up and hand me my purse.”
Thomas handed it to me and playfully flipped me off as he left the dressing room. I blew him a kiss.
“Hello?”
“Liz?”
“Hey there stranger! I was wondering when you’d return my calls. What’s up?”
Was he crying?
“She died.”
“What? Who died?”
“Mom.”
“No. Are you kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.”
Silence.
“Will? Are you still there?”
“I just thought you should know. Bye.”
“Wait!”
He didn’t say anything but I could hear him breathing.
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Are you okay?”
Nothing.
“Are you coming home?”
“She always liked you Liz. Thought you’d like to know that.”
Then he hung up.
I called him back, but he didn’t answer.
“Will, it’s me.” I figured I should sound like I was crying. What’s devastation sound like? “Call me back, okay. I’m here for you.” Sniff sniff. “Love ya.”
“Sweetie.” Thomas was standing outside of the dressing room. “Is everything okay?”
I pulled on the leather skirt and swung open the door. “Whadda ya think? Does it work or does it work?”
Thomas looked at me like he didn’t know what to think. “Were you crying?”
I looked in the mirror and wiped some mascara from my cheek. Smiling I turned to him. “Just for effect.”
He wasn’t convinced. “It sounded real.”
I bowed. “You forget I used to be an actress.”
“Umm hmm. You forget your evil lies don’t work on me.”
“It was my ex-boyfriend.”
“Heath?”
I shook my head. “Will.”
“Will? Will,” he replied, “What’d that fine thing want?”
I started to pull on a charcoal cashmere sweater. “His mom died.”
Thomas rushed over and was now hugging me. “Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry.”
“Meh, she had cancer, not like we didn’t know this day would come.”
He pulled back and shot me the “oh-no-you-didn’t” gay guy glare.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“And I thought I was insensitive.”
“Whatever,” I shot back mockingly. “What good are gay friends if they can’t pick out a decent outfit?”
“About as useful as straight girls with no hot guy friends.”
I rolled my eyes. “Witty. Now how about you use your magic gay powers of style and help me pick out a different sweater. This one makes my boobs look too big.”
Thomas left and I sat down. I felt bad for Will, honest. The thing is, getting wrapped up in his mom’s death just isn’t my style.
It was an opportunity.
