Thursday, July 15, 2010

Playette's Paradise (title penned by Simon St. Prendercast)

Paradise Market is a green Mecca of freshly picked organic vegetables, grass fed cow meats, and a deli fit for a chubby emperor . Speaking of freshly organic legumes, let’s talk about the handsome young stripling on checkstand number three. I see you. Yes I do. And I know you see me. Always throwing a couple chocolates in my sack for the offspring. Sometimes, there’s a sign up that reads ‘closed’ on your register. Don’t think I don’t see you strip that shit off lightning fast, as I prance my mo fineness through those double doors. Did I find everything alright? Yes I did nameless young man. Do you need help out with this? Oh, you can help me. You’ve bagged my groceries, now let’s drop the food and the kids off, and really start unwrapping some goods.

I know you’re thinking what I’m thinking. It’s all in your eyes and the ever so light brushing of my hand as we exchange currency. Listen kid, there’s a whole lot of exchanging I’d like to do with you, and I’m not talking about returning that spoiled milk.

No one would have to know. We could leave the kids with the sitter, skip on off to some romantic place (preferably with a waterfall and shit to jump off of), and let’s just let these feral, silent cats out of their bags. Yes junior, I’m talking about sexual congress, but I see your supervisor giving us the fifty yard falcon stare, so let’s just keep it at, ‘need some help with your bags?’

See you tomorrow on aisle six. Or should I say, aisle sex.

Mo - outs


  1. I am totally getting knocked up this weekend so I can be a hot mo like you.

    You rule, sister. Hilarious, mo' fucking hilarious. I'm going to spread this around just like you do at Paradise Market.

  2. Dearest adventure grrl -

    I can see a hot Mo just ready to emerge from your beautiful self. And since you yourself blog, you are already a Mother of words. That in itself is burnt testicle hot!