Last week, I bemoaned the sorry state of my months' long dry spell. Well, readers, I am happy to report that it seems that my dry spell is over! I will pause for cheers and applause. Thanks to the mystery man who had the good sense to end my crummy curse. I'm sure that he's earned a boy scout badge for this social service.
However, now that I've revved up my mojo, I seem to have a whole 'nother problem all together: since tossing a little chum in the ocean--so to speak--I've been attracting the wrong kind of fish! I had three guys all over me this weekend and I wasn't interested in any of them. In fact, I was creeped out more than anything. What's wrong with me? It seems that my mojo is pulling in hammerheads when all I want is an increasingly elusive Great White. *shakes fist at the sky*
Tracy Jordan tells me to live every week like it's Shark Week and now I know what he meant!
ps- I'm totally gonna get this now.