I have failed, Internet. Failed. Failed at being a future cougar. A cougar in training. A puma (I've been told it's called).
Because I just spent the last 24 (ish) hours with a 31 year old man (a hot man, but shamelessly not younger than me nonetheless).
I KNOW! I know.
How am I supposed to be a puma now? I'll be the laughing stock of the cougars' club. They'll strip me of my puma status.
Eh fuck it. It was worth it.
Goddamn was it worth it.
24 (ish) hours of entirely too much fun (the details of which are none of your busy-ness yo) worth it.
More about this ridiculously hot man later. I have to think of a blog nickname for him first (Because I'm a nice girl. Stop laughing; I am!), possibly The Leo (because that's what he is and he's all about that) or maybe The Photographer (since I met him on a photography site).
Let it be known, my friends, that you never know what is going to happen.
One day you're all, I think I'll find a dumb, young guy to dote all over me and have lots of The Sex with. I'll be queen of the Pumas. And the next thing you know, you're making sounds only dogs can hear and practicing things that are probably illegal in Alabama with a fine man who is not only not too young for you, but is also wickedly smart and entirely entertaining.
Eh that whole cougar thing is a bunch of malarky anyway. Why babysit an Axe-soaked little boy when there's a man who really knows how to use his hands?
This post participates in:
- Chicks who do it for me
- Lose Weight Fast with the Heartbreak Diet!
- Margaritas, Weed, and Slut Signals
- epic existential post just in time for that arbitrary changing of the calendar which I so love
- Public Service Announcement
- Horrifying Shit on Pinterest: Slut Shaming E-Cards
- Animal Monster Bird Squawk Dinosaur Creature
- My Doctors Always Suck, otherwise entitled Why I Hate Kaiser
- Sexy Saturdays: Slutty Saturday
- fishcunts and cum dumpsters