The Ballad of Lihb
A man named Lihb sat at a table in a Spartan room and pondered about love. "What is the point of this?" he thought, "I love her, but she's so flippy floppy."
The girl of Lihb's fancy was a very pretty, loving, and kind woman named Behitchit, one could say there were many things wrong with her, but primarily she just couldn't stick, she spent her life hopping from man to man, with two or more in between. Now that she's an adult, she has narrowed her options between two men, one whom she's dated for nine moons, and the other she's fancied for eight. Poor Lihb is the latter, lonely and confused, he doesn't know how his current predicament came to be, yet he continues pondering...
"Why whould she tell me she loves me, then the next night go right back to him? If any sense is to be made out of this woman its past me, but oh I love her so... At night those wonderful things we do, so close and affectionate.. Then in the morning she leaves right back to him! How can this be? Is she a succubus? Does she know what its doing to me?"
Poor Lihb pondered and pondered for hours and hours, the daily routine was a minor distraction, as constant interruptions from Behitchit would come in the forms of texts and the occasionally sneaked in call. They talked about the most insignificant things. At the end of the day he would come back to his room, a little more defeated, and a little more confused. While Lihb worked the impossible problem of Behitchit, his friends would give him advice, "Forget about her, she has no sense of a social contract, people like her cause others to live selfish, nasty, brutish, and short lives." said Lihb's dear friend Ydna.
"That parasite in the amazon is less painful to a man's parts." said Det, also a dear friend of Lihb's.
Still despite their remarks Lihb felt at heart that she was still worth the pain, in the slight chance that one of the nights where she comes over, or the times he walks her home, that she will stay, or invite him in.
Story continuing next entry....
Crapulous: Sick from, or marked by excessive drinking.
glot: a combining form with the meanings “having a tongue,” “speaking, writing, or written in a language” of the kind or number specified by the initial element: polyglot.
The girl of Lihb's fancy was a very pretty, loving, and kind woman named Behitchit, one could say there were many things wrong with her, but primarily she just couldn't stick, she spent her life hopping from man to man, with two or more in between. Now that she's an adult, she has narrowed her options between two men, one whom she's dated for nine moons, and the other she's fancied for eight. Poor Lihb is the latter, lonely and confused, he doesn't know how his current predicament came to be, yet he continues pondering...
"Why whould she tell me she loves me, then the next night go right back to him? If any sense is to be made out of this woman its past me, but oh I love her so... At night those wonderful things we do, so close and affectionate.. Then in the morning she leaves right back to him! How can this be? Is she a succubus? Does she know what its doing to me?"
Poor Lihb pondered and pondered for hours and hours, the daily routine was a minor distraction, as constant interruptions from Behitchit would come in the forms of texts and the occasionally sneaked in call. They talked about the most insignificant things. At the end of the day he would come back to his room, a little more defeated, and a little more confused. While Lihb worked the impossible problem of Behitchit, his friends would give him advice, "Forget about her, she has no sense of a social contract, people like her cause others to live selfish, nasty, brutish, and short lives." said Lihb's dear friend Ydna.
"That parasite in the amazon is less painful to a man's parts." said Det, also a dear friend of Lihb's.
Still despite their remarks Lihb felt at heart that she was still worth the pain, in the slight chance that one of the nights where she comes over, or the times he walks her home, that she will stay, or invite him in.
Story continuing next entry....
Crapulous: Sick from, or marked by excessive drinking.
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