stiff back,stiff neck, weak knees,& tiffany’s on the other gal’s hand…

stiff neck, stiff back, can’t stand straight with  them weak knees, the tiffany is ’round some other gal’s head..what’s there to smile about?
… my lawyer is a handsome fellow. we kissed at the backseat. we thought that i was pregnant and at first he didn’t want to marry me. & then he agreed to marry me because i argued: mr. superproxy guardian angel…what will the nuns say, huh? the kid gets your surname and i don’t? and do i have to explain to you what i mean by this? hey…please look at me and tell me that you don’t get what i mean?
then he goes, " sa bagay…oo nga. fine. you’re right. tama ka. you can have my surname since you’ve put things that way"
lovely.really lovely. it still makes me smile. it does.
…my lawyer had to go home to his province for the weekend and i didn’t know about it. we had a meeting for the stoooooooooooooopid wretched heaven does it again UE 50-50. he looks at me in the car. again, that backseat. he’s scolding me with his eyes. eye candy beside him, dig? (that was then…so far back then…2008 sort of happy me then) "ma’am…i have to go home to the province…ano ka ba?" " what do you mean?"
i didn’t dress up pretty for him. i dressed pretty for UE. he thought that i had dolled up to look like sweets for his eyes so that we could have some of that why-do-you-think-we-thinks-that-the ma’am-got-the-knock-in-her-belly-any how? he looked mighty sorry that he had to go to his province, though.
sweet. really sweet. still makes me smile. it’s a li’l bit oh so very bittersweet
we didn’t get married. i wasn’t pregnant. i knew that. it was a test. you know, he passed. and so he’s been saved from eternal damnation. meaning…saved from having to call me his wife.
pedophile ex , the doctor, passed the same kind of test, too. he was saved too. but between mentally (grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr blank ) dr.& semi-normal handsome…i’ll take the smile from the memory of 2008, any day.
i used to have some charm. charm that worked. charm’s all gone now, i’m afraid. no more getting lucky in the backseat,
~ my left hand is under observation, i’m the 1 observing it. i’m afraid that my pianist’s hands are getting devoured by flesh eating germs. from my mother. & i was nearly getting there: playing song without words op.53 w/ much flair.
~ told mr. paradise/ mr. E : wow. i’ll lose a hand, lose my mind, and never ever make love to you.
i think i’ve died and i’m in hell. could be.
~ and i have the inflammatory rheumatic heart symptoms, day in day out i’m rolling my eyes and cursing heaven, as usual. wonder who would take the grass on my side, if it’s true that the grass is greener on the other side…i can’t see just where the green’s at…wonder who would trade places?bet there aren’t going to be any takers.
~ this is how unlucky i am. holding hands with my mama most of the time…and i just have to catch the kind of germs from her which eat flesh. bummer bummer bummer ho-hum bummer.
~heave. sigh. bye bye….

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