Fanny Merkin

“I'd do you." "I think you did once" I say. "Oh yeah.”

“I gaze into his gazing eyes gazingly like a gazelle gazing into another gazelle's gazing gaze.”

“Walmart suddenly smells like a prosti-tot pageant.”

“HOLY MOTHER EFFING SPARKLY VAMPIRES IS HE HOT”

“I feel naked in my Tommy hoodie and Victoria's Secret sweatpants with PINK written across the ass. The sweatpants aren't pink though - they're gray. This always confuses me when I put them on, because shouldn't they say GRAY - on the backside? Maybe Victoria's secret is she's colorblind.”

“Soon, we are as naked as the day we were born. Except, y'know, were not covered in blood and attached to our mothers by umbilical cords.”

“I growl with frustration at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is fifty shades messed up. Why is it so kinky and out of control? I need to stop sleeping with it wet. As I brush my long brown hair, the girl in the mirror with the brown eyes too big for her head stares back at me. Wait... my eyes are blue! It dawns on me that I've been staring at a poster of Kristen Stewart for five minutes. My own hair is fine.”

“I spend the rest of the night doing schoolwork. After striking a match and lighting a candal, I sit down at my desk with my quill pen and parchment to write an essay for my ethics class on the legalities of fan fiction.”

“Mr. Long Fingers. Mr. Womb-Ticklers”

“My god, Anna,” he says. “I almost lost you.” He has me in his powerful grip. I’ve never felt this safe before.“Never let go,” I say, looking into his beautiful gray eyes.“That could be problematic,” he says. “I’ll have to let you go at some point. What if I have to pee? What if you have to pee?”“I don’t care,” I say.“What if I have an important business meeting and I’m holding you and we’re both covered in urine?”I start to cry. “You’re right,” I say, turning my face away from his gaze. “Nothing lasts forever.”

“Are you ready for my love gun?” he says.Uh-oh. “What’s a love gun? Is that a sex toy?”“No,” he says. “I’m talking about my penis.”“Oh,” I say. “Then yes. Fire away”

“An attractive blonde behind the receptionist's desk smiles at me as I walk in. I assume she’s the receptionist, because I can’t think of any other reason she would be sitting behind the receptionist’s desk. Unless maybe she’s filling in for the real receptionist, who could be on her lunch break. But then I remember: it’s almost two, and I doubt anyone takes their lunch breaks that late. So this must be the actual receptionist.”

“Here’s the aisle with tape.”“Thank you, Miss Steal,” he says. He picks up the most expensive brand, which runs $3.99 a roll. This guy is a total baller.”

“I drink coffee sometimes, but Starbucks’ coffee tastes like burnt ass,” I say.“Actually, it tastes nothing like burnt ass, Anna.”“And how would you know what burnt ass tastes like?”He laughs. “That’s for me to know…and you to find out.”I’m not sure I want to find out, but whatever.”

“Take your finger out of your nose, Miss Steal.”

“Air is like cable TV: you don't appreciate it until you don't have it.”