We never talk about poetry, 'cus she knows nothing about poetry.
We never talk about movies, 'cus she likes some shitty movies.
We never talk about politics, 'cus she really don't give a goddamn fuck about politics.
We never talk about art, 'cus she think that's a matter for druggies, so she hates arts.
We never talk about human beings, 'cus she don't mind if she's talking with a dog, a heartless bitch, a mindless bodybuilder, or a fuckin' human being.
We never talk about nothing, 'cus that's what she wants to talk about, but I don't have this kind of stuff inside my fuck'd up mind.
So we fuck.
Than she sleeps.
Than I read.
So she wakes up and we fuck again.
Than she, with her heartless bitches so called bffs, disappear fastly enough to make a guy feels impotent. My thing semi-hard and she's already buying lovely shoes.
Than I take my bath.
Fill my glass with pure cheap wine and light a small ganja.
Stay tunned for the next episode of Californication.
I smile.
This is love.
This is life.
