so this Bella chick. she's nuts. still moping around the brothel in her pale blue nightie like a smacked out Bonnie Tyler, heart eclipsed, holding out for a hero at $260 an hour. i don;t know why she's so miserable. she's scored more work than me. i tell her to shut up. "i know. i just miss my boyfriend. i want to be with him"
"in Seattle?"
"no he's here in Australia," lie #4 24 hours ago he was in the United States, "he fucked me last night. he has such a big dick. but i was so worn out after work here. i got pounded by this guy."
"so you're boyfriend has a great job. he's hot. he's rich. he's got a big dick. why are you here?"
later I'm hiding away from the Sci-fi Channel and typing an entry into this when Bella glides up beside me. "are you writing?"
unable to to do two things at once, "yes" and my fingers go back to typing
"what are you writing?" i stop typing. i look her. i roll my eyes, then resume typing. "i write too."
"i used to write too," i think, "until you sat your fat arse by my side and started annoying the shit out of me"
"actually i write a lot. i was writing a series of novels.... and then Twilight came out! but my novels are different."
now I've completely forgotten what i was writing, "let me guess. the main female protagonist is a tranny?"
"mmm," she nodded
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