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We'll get back to the gate thread, later. I promise.
About 15 months ago, my friend Katie was murdered. Her boyfriend, of course, and then he killed himself. I told her not to date him. I told her he was going to kill her. She told me he was going to kill her.
It's 1:40 in the morning. We're dealing with regrets.
It's 1:40 in the morning. We're dealing with regrets.
Katie was... two years younger than me? Dated a good friend of mine my junior and senior year of high school. Introduced me to Duran Duran. Save a Prayer for the Morning After, Katie.
Katie was, of course, pure as the driven snow, as she was a minor when I first met her.
When she turned 18, she was a little lest chaste. But only a little. I mean, she got married and did missionary.
When she turned 18, she was a little lest chaste. But only a little. I mean, she got married and did missionary.
Katie was, what, 5'0"? Maybe 5'1" on a good day? Fun sized.
And she had incredible body. Guys, she was built for sin. Ladies, she was willing to lean that way.
And she had incredible body. Guys, she was built for sin. Ladies, she was willing to lean that way.
Round about the time she got divorced and turned 40, turns out, she kinda found out that having sex could be fun. Sadly, I was half a country away. But weirdly, Katie and I had managed to keep in touch all through the years.
The other part of this incredible sex pistol was, well, she was nice. Really, pleasant, great to chat with, fantastic laugh at my dumb jokes. Girl could giggle with the best of them.
No real point to this thread. Just, my friend was a very nice girl. I want someone to remember her.
She made my life better, and with her loss, I'm diminished.
I miss my friend.
She made my life better, and with her loss, I'm diminished.
I miss my friend.
