Team America - Fuck Yea

5'1", 105, bronze. Asian. Hot. Spicy. Exotic. Lisa, not Lisa Chang, just for clarification.

I had help, but it looks like the game is back. I had a wingwoman. The hot Romanian. I love you!! Holy shit. I have to excuse myself because I've been drinking and I type slow as shit. I'm also on the phone with my homegirl Brenna. I told her last night that if she were to draw her name it would be a perfect color spectrum. It would be like red to pink to white. Whatever, it's an inside joke.

Anyway, I'm at the bar. Sitting outside. Country music blasting in my ear. I feel out of place. So I start talking to this girl, who initially asks why I took so long talking to her. I say it's because I wasn't ready. She says I play it cool. I do play it cool. I am a smooth ass motherfucker. I spit game. She swallows. She says, "I'm going to close my tab, let's go inside." I think to myself, "It can't be this easy."

It is this easy.

My wingwoman leaves. We leave. I discover she's also 3 weeks out of a relationship. Her hood is pierced. I wreck. I come back. I close my tab. I go home and talk to Brenna. It's a great convo. I can't wait to go to vegas. Holy shit. I'm hungry. Leslie texted me tonight. She's sending my shit. The divorce is settled. I am sad.

I am human. I am recovering. I love you.