It’s easy to take them home and have sex with them, but with you Italian girls, it’s not so easy.” At least, that’s what they say; I don’t know if it’s real. They treat you like a princess, and the next day they disappear. You know, I was discussing this during dinner with a friend of mine recently. We also have different words for men and women masturbating each other. If you use your hand on a man, it's sega, which is also the thing you do when you cut a tree, saw. Men who have a lot of women are real men.”The opposite. A lot of women become obsessed with finding marriage. But American girls are easier because they are here on holiday.
While paying the bill, however, he asked me if I would like to go out again. It took me a few moments to realize that he looked sincerely surprised and hurt. we have so much in common, and I feel like we have real chemistry.” “Point of Clarification, Counselor, the only thing we have in common is that our last names end in vowels.
Furthermore, I have more chemistry with the waiter.” In the cab ride home, I replayed the evening over in my mind from start to finish.
Using his forefinger and thumb, he reached into his mouth and removed the piece of chewed meat. He then shrugged and gingerly placed the wad of beef down on his small bread plate off to the side. I stared at his plate of masticated meat, and realized I had to say something. And furthermore, I don’t believe you–there must have been a time you couldn’t chew your meat. ” “IF I really and truly couldn’t swallow the steak, I would discreetly use my napkin to remove the food from my mouth. The very last thing I would do is remove it with my fingers and display the gnawed meat for my company! Lucky for me, there was not one thing wrong with the steak.
Without saying a word, he picked up his knife and resumed cutting. I looked at the meat, and then panned back to Antonio’s face. “Is there something…wrong…with the rib-eye, Antonio? I put my fork down, crossed my fingers and cleared my throat, indicating that I meant business. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I spit out food like that.” “Point of clarification, Ms. It was a delicious cut–juicy and flavorful–and cooked to medium-rare perfection.
Not only had I just lost two hours of my life to a man raised by hamsters, but I had a horrible stomach-ache from eating both his meal and mine.
It seemed like a lot of effort, and I was starting to think that, as always, my mother was right.
After a few awkward moments, Antonio suggested we order drinks. Case closed.” We went on to make small talk and eventually our drinks came.
I managed to shake myself out of my stupor and look at the cocktail menu in time for him to ask, “What are you going to get, shorty? Antonio sent his back while I suppressed a chuckle.
It was early on a Sunday morning two years ago that I was telling a recent tale of woe and heartbreak to my mother. When you least expect it, your special star will come. Be patient — there are plenty of fish in the sea.” “But I only catch guppies! If you are single, and you are not managing your personal brand — “winking” at folks and setting up coffee dates — well then, you just don’t want it bad enough. So I was back in the game and going to meet Antonio* for dinner. Upon waking up that morning, I realized too late I was out of coffee.