The Truth About Iris - justin_guber

The Truth About Iris

I've said it before and I'll say it again: the eye's don't lie.

Regardless, it gets difficult to trust them. Sometimes you want to believe your instincts have failed you and maybe you should trust your logical ol' brain, the same brain that told you that masturbating in your bedroom buck naked when there's no lock on the door is a good idea and your mother walks in to find your 14 year old cock in your hand with a copy of the Sunday Sport you found in the bushes on your way back from school spread open with Jo Guest's tits on one page and an article on Evil Hitler Fish on the other.

Not that I'd know, of course...

But the eyes. That's what we're talking about. Eyes speak volumes, you just need to listen to what they have to say. I've said it before when I talked of the FILTH, whose eyes screamed bloody murder and pretentiousness.

Most of the others have eyes that talk of daily routine and whatever opinion those eyes may say about me was never worth my time.

But someone new has caught my eye, and I decided to read her eyes in return, and everytime she walks past I hear those eyes say the same thing over and over again:

"You are beneath me."

She isn't in rank, I can assure you that. But her eyes say it. Yell it, almost. "You're not on my level". And the brain refuses to believe it because I don't want it to be true.

There are those whose eyes say the same thing, but I couldn't give two shakes of a quick wank what they thought of me. For all I care they can go off and live their imaginary existence of Prada handbags and designer mp3 players surrounded by socialite friends living off dad's money to 'find themselves'. People who use their dad's money as an investment put to good use, that I can live with. People using their dad's money because they have no other means to survive, I can live with. People who use dad's money as income for open bottles at Bangsar and another three years tuition because they've decided to change their course from "Fashion Design & Media" to "Existentialist Art Under The Influence of Rhino Scrotum Sweat as a Means of Higher Understanding".

I could've just given Paris Hilton as an example and not have written such a lengthy paragraph, but then geekboys would be clicking here looking for booty shots. Fuck it. Let's entice them:

Download Now! Paris Hilton fucking two bellboys from her dad's hotel in the penthouse jacuzzi. Hacked from T-Mobile. Also downloadable: uncensored shots of Paris Hilton fondling the horses naughty parts (cut from Simple Life). Download now!

Heh.

But yeah. Her eyes. Damn her eyes. No sincerity in those eyes.

2.3.05 07:49

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To date 3 Comment(s) TrackBack-URL

(2.3.05 08:02)
Finally!

(2.3.05 08:10)
...finally? Thanks for the sweeties, but I'm confused.

alex / Website (2.3.05 08:48)
hey dude, the link's arent working