Tuesday, July 12, 2011


Legally I'm single, free to mingle.  But the essence of me is a married woman.  I'm all tied up.  I've got shackles that chain me to one person, whoever that may be.  Bed hopping, body rocking, knocking boots all night long, ain't me.  My goodies are contained - fresh and sealed.  When the top is popped, only one hand goes in at a time.  I'm finger licking "betcha can't eat just one" Lays.  After the munchies have subsided and the high is low, I'm still here.  Except your cravings haven't been satisfied.  You're a picky eater - a snacker. One with an insatiable appetite, whose eyes are bigger than his stomach.