theres nothing better than tsar on national tv

to get a new girl to come over and spend the night.

lets call her martina hingis.

tall dark and bored bored bored with the lifestyle the pretty boys have served up to her year after year.

strolled into my humble home an hour late but i let it slide cuz i needed to clean up. she spent nearly a half hour looking at the pictures on my walls the books on my shelves and the video tapes in my drawers.

the whole time i kept thinking fucking a martina hingis is in my hizzie.

and of course the phone kept ringing but i had to pick up. first it was jeanine. then it was my truest. then it was miss montreal. then my mom of all people called. but martina was cool about, she kept pouring different cocktails for us.

soon she had me where she wanted me. tipsy. honest. fearless.

perfect tsar tv-watching mode.

not so fast mr blogger she warned and ripped off her breakaway warm up pants.

if only you knew how much of this is true

and a funny thing happens when a girl is this aggressive with me. i retreat like a bitch. it’s the craziest thing. so i backed up into my computer closet and tried to show her pictures of my neice, pictures of my youth, pictures i will soon be using on my blog.

but martina hingis didnt wanna see any stinking pictures.

until she saw a folder entitled xxannaxx

then suddenly she was totally fixated

got any pictures of she and i playing doubles, she asked.

i dropped my old fashioned but it bounced right back into my hand.

and then i knew i was dreaming.

and then tsar was on tv.

and then the pizza arrived.

and then i washed my hands, re-entered the living room

and then my friends, i ripped off my break-away silk pajama bottoms

and as the sistahs say, thats when the party started proper.

eight tsar tunes you can listen to + j. mo + mad mathias

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