Wednesday, June 13, 2012

declarations of love (i.e. deco, i want your dick).

Some interesting graffiti on the bus back from Waterford the other day. You know, I don’t think it’s true. I don’t think Rachel O’Brien does want Deco’s dick up her pussy. I mean, if she was willing to broadcast it on the public transport, she’d probably be brave enough to tell him in person and that would make the graffiti redundant. Or maybe she wasn’t brave at all. There was a phone number underneath. Presumably, Rachel wants Deco to see her raunchy declaration of love, phone her up in the middle of the night and inform her that he would like to plunder her pussy. How romantic. Or maybe Deco carved the sentiment. Maybe he loves Rachel and the love is so terribly unrequited that he felt compelled to tell the world that she wanted his dick, just for a moment of fantasy, a moment in a world where Rachel really did want his dick, or his heart, or his love. Whatever. Or maybe someone else wrote it, a friend who wanted to be a catalyst for Rachel and Deco’s impending love affair. Or maybe it was someone taking the piss. Or maybe I need to get a life.

(I was tempted to ring Rachel on the number provided to tell her that she is a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man.)

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