The Summer Boyfriend is easy breezy. You can find him on a fire escape at someone’s house party, smoking cigarettes and clutching a sangria. He is the definition of someone you don’t want when the weather gets cold but he’s perfect for the warmer temperatures. You envision him on a beach with the sand in his toes. You see him shirtless and drinking margaritas on a rooftop. The sun hits his skin in the most perfect way and it will be hard for you to not have sex with him every moment of every day. That’s The Summer Boyfriend’s job though—to give you multiple orgasms a day—and the rest is just light and fluffy like clouds. You only like him in June, July, and August. When Labor Day hits, feelings will shift and you’ll feel the need to exit the relationship ASAP. He’ll walk you to the train on the first day you need to wear a cardigan and you’ll know it’s done. The second it gets cold, so do the feelings. “I don’t want to see you in sweaters. I want to see you in a tank top. It’s been real, dude.”
With a pantry as bare as a screening of Bucky Larson, the age-old dinnertime conundrum is amplified. Never fear, because today's deal from La Cocina De Ana is serving up the solution. via
 |
| photo credit: Thinkstock |
I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds
Strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy
HOW TO READ THIS BOOK:No image of me should ever be removed from this book for any purpose, including, but not exclusively: book reports, decorating walls, or placing in your wallet to imply our friendship.
I'm going to take a second here to praise the work of Monsanto. Good people. Doing a fine job protecting our nation's food supplies with their insect-resistant Frankenstein corn. They don't coddle pests and I respect that.
I had gone to no such place but to the smoke of cafes and nights when the room whirled and you needed to look at the wall to make it stop, nights in bed, drunk, when you knew that that was all there was, and the strange excitement of waking and not knowing who it was with you, and the world all unreal in the dark and so exciting that you must resume again unknowing and not caring in the night, sure that this was all and all and all and not caring. Suddenly to care very much and to sleep to wake with it sometimes morning and all that had been there gone and everything sharp and hard and clear and sometimes a dispute about the cost. Sometimes still pleasant and fond and warm and breakfast and lunch. Sometimes all niceness gone and glad to get out on the street but always another day starting and then another night.
 |
| via |
 |
| via |
 |
| via |
 |
| via |
