Today one of my coworkers got on my case, as he often does, about me liking "bad boys". Another coworker, upon hearing me admit to this, said it was disappointing to learn this truth about me.
Here's what's disappointing.
Of the last 3-4 so-called "good guys" that I've liked, they have ALL ended up with other girls.
My bad boys are always there when I need them. Sure they are the ones who provide me with the most interesting stories about drugs, drinking, partying and sex but they're also the ones who genuinely care about me.
I was thinking today how easy it is for me to tell my bad boys how much I love them but basically impossible for me to admit any sort of crush on those good guys. Why do you suppose that is?
At any rate, the good guys aren't that good and I can't bring the bad boys home to my parents.
It brings me to a quote from a wise old man that I remembered this weekend: "Boys are bad, books are good, so read a book."
Words to live by.
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