I think the weirdest thing any tart can experience in life is the convo… You know the one that starts off with a clearing of the throat followed by a we need to talk! These are always administered by some nervous version of the male species who is rightfully waiting for you to squeeze the last little bit of manhood he could possibly possess out of his shrinking testis!
Personally, I hate these conversations and try and avoid them like the plague. I would rather fake having HIV than having to face one of these little chats. The last time I had one of these talks I was settling down on the guy’s couch to watch Van Wilder – who would have thunk it that the situation would so rapidly deteriorate that we would turn to each other, mid way through popcorn making, and utter those heart crushing words. Luckily for moi I managed to beat him to the break-up finish line. Go tart!
Recently though one of my most deevine tarts has had to go through this pain staking activity and my heart goes out to her. Don’t worry babe – the sun will shine again!
Of course to the little fucker that is responsible, I hope you have mother fuckingly ugly children!
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