D. B. is just tried eating a mango, but it was too sweet and brought back too many painful memories. Happy memories, but painful all the same.

What have I told you people about using status to air out your sentimental moods? Perhaps D.B. should invest in a Moleskeine. A nice, leather-bound book (reputed to be used by Hemingway and Picasso or some such nonsense) with blank pages just waiting for D.B.’s mango sentimentality. Hell, she could even put it in verse if she likes:

Dripping fruit under the stars,
My nether regions were dripping too.
I drank the juice,
From the indention in his upper lip
Soon we were making love with only the moon,
As witness.
But, with a tap on the shoulder,
And a hit with a boulder,
His girlfriend rained on my mango parade.
Now, all I have are the memories of that fateful eve.

7th Grade Poetry Contest: 10, Narcisstic Rating: 10