Confessions of a Bookaholic

by Joslyn Westbrook

If one were to ask, I’d insist a laptop, desktop, cell phone—anything digital—come with a warning label—an informative heads-up that says in larger-than-life bold font: don’t operate while sauced, you freaking idiot.

bloggergate?

For five years, life—along with that stupid blog—was my bitch, up until the moment said life spoon-fed me an unpleasant taste of the fuckening.

“If two hearts are destined together, love isn’t going anywhere.”

A tall, slim, flawless-bodied Barbie Girl, while I’m more of a petite, snack-loving Carbie Girl.

I freaking love her already! So snarky! HaHa

Albert Einstein once said, a clever person solves a problem, but a wise person avoids it.

Don’t get me started on the number of times I’d walked in on Lucas and his girthy bananaconda emerging from the shower.

Is Harper the woman of your dreams, or the woman you’ve settled for because you believe the woman of your dreams is completely off-limits?

Lucas spun around to face me, armed with a can of whipped cream, and a turned-up mouth that could beguile bras and panties off a group of cloistered nuns.

“My best friend.” Who I happen to be crazy about. “Is she the blonde who was in here with you earlier? Because the nurses all joked about how your heart rate sped up the whole time she was in here, then settled back down a few minutes after she left.”

“Because, Macy Sinclair”—my fingers gripped her waist, the subtle, barely-there touch making her whimper—“I’m in love with you, have been since forever.

eleventy-thousand

But, four days into his recovery, I was afraid my clit would jump out of my panties and tackle his mouth.

The next several days crawled by slower than a snail with asthma.

In the game of football, Lucas Stone had several times been named MVP. Likewise, in the game of love and sex, he too was an MVP. Most. Valuable. Pussylicker.

Lucas went from Most Valuable Pussylicker to Most Valuable Penis in twenty minutes flat. And I was lovestruck—cockstruck—for life.