it s friday
not thank fuck it s friday
it is just friday,
i am 42
Saturday, in less than four hours,
i am 43
sunday, in a bit more than 24 hours,
when i will be 43, it will be Valentine’s day.
last year i cursed the hell out of Cupidon,
you know, the little angel who is shooting arrows of love for a living,
to soul mates, that very one we have to thank on Sunday
i was calling him names and all,
i was even begging him to take classes,
his aim was getting so rubish it was unbearable,
well, guess what, on Saturday,
wishing me a happy birthday,
i hope people think of paying for Cupidon’s new arrows,
because he may well have taken classes,
but his aiming rectified has done no wonders,
still on Sunday, i will be cursing his name, poor little angel,
He may be out of arrows…
people : Give me back the arrows you thieves!!!
Does anyone think he has been kidnapped?
am i being paranoïd?
Do you think the 1% everyone is talking about have actually done the rapt?
Where is this scroodge of love?
not only do i have to find the means to make thickles find their intelligence
and USE it, but i have to find where the fuck they burried
his love vision
that sounds like a quest for some round table knight of the middle ages!
i am a woman of the 21st century not horse riding and most definately not stupid enough to go and look to catch fog in a cuppa