Oscar Wilde

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“Crying is for plain women. Pretty women go shopping.”
― Oscar Wilde

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I’m Not Christian Grey

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I’m not Christian Grey
I don’t have money to burn
Women shouldn’t be bought
A point I easily discern
I don’t care how you live
But quit preaching of your escapades
I will never judge or condemn, but
I’m exhausted by your 50 shades
I don’t want the cameras rolling
Don’t need you to be impressed
For eternal happiness, I’ll bet
That vanilla sex might actually be best

*Author’s note: Just a little fun here. I’m not disparaging anyone’s lifestyle. I’m just trying to have some fun. I don’t care how you get laid, I just hope you do! 💋💚

**PS: If this offends you, perhaps you need a good spanking for taking yourself too seriously! 😉

Tana French

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“I’ve always loved strong women, which is lucky for me because once you’re over about twenty-five there is no other kind. Women blow my mind. The stuff that routinely gets done to them would make most men curl up and die, but women turn to steel and keep on coming. Any man who claims he’s not into strong women is fooling himself mindless; he’s into strong women who know how to pout prettily and put on baby voices, and who will end up keeping his balls in her makeup bags.”

― Tana French, Faithful Place

Ponderosa Pine / Vanilla Latte

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Ponderosa pine / vanilla latte
Gravensteins falling from my eyes
New world ideals coming to roost
Spring’s leaves rustle up & die
Nature overcoming this city life
Count a penny twice before you call
She could have been a shining beauty
Left alone with nothing to do but bawl
The mountain stands watch by night
Stoic wagon-wheels to be forever spared
Dealing with relics & antique china
Listening, but never knew you cared
Revisiting vast ideas in the flames
Savor my kiss, for they will be few
(I don’t know) how to talk to single women
You’ll be self-indulgent when you’re through

Pour Me Some Scotch

Pour me some scotch, I’ll tell you a story
This one full of thriving drunken louts
Seafaring strangers searching for loose women
Under these conditions, love is often on the outs
Ladies and gentlemen, please let me continue
Twas not I, for the saloon singer’s song
Melted her heart & it not my fault
You cannot blame me for his doing wrong
I too was blinded by the sparkle of the ring
I too was victim when that ship went down
Tilt your eyes back to who you know it is
In the dark corner of midnight rests the sad clown

  

The Truth About Women’s Feet

  

Love wrapped around my mind like a shroud

Full of colors, spectrums & radiant splashes

Not a day without engulfing sunshine

Blinded by pantyhose & false eyelashes

I believed in the fairytale courtships

Sipping champagne from glass slippers

Lovely damsels in need of gentlemen

Revealed to be crude strumpet strippers

My soul could not take this detail

Where was my love with elegant class

Distraught in this new reality

Stuck on feet made for crystal glass

How could my dreams unravel so

This giving me pause to think

Now I understand the truth

That women’s feet actually stink