Can I get an amen for all those princesses out there, who don’t sing about a boy you’ve never spoken to, but who just want to get high and watch the apprentice. You don’t need the boy you loved when you were 15, all I want to see on my screen, is Claude from the apprentice. When I’m texting a boy, but we’re not talking about cocks and rubbers, we’re talking about how brutal the board room was. When I think about those eyes, the lashes I used to fantasise would look at me, and then suddenly they’re there on the screen, and finally I see those eyes looking at me. They’re finally looking directly my way, with a sigh and a smile, and I feel that long forgotten skip in my chest. My hearts not dead yet, I’m not so bitter and set in my ways that I .... oh, it got tense, in the board room, both had done poorly, and they... I’m sorry I was distracted by the apprentice. So I think about ink black hair, and I think about those blue eyes, and I think about blonde hair, and I think about brown eyes, a short buzz that felt good on my hand, thick curls, long strands, then I kick back and try to understand what the hell that guy with the gigantic mouth is talking about on the apprentice... and then I toss the pad to one side, grab my phone and text one of those eyes, placing my bet, who’s getting fired on the apprentice. Must concentrate..... and I jubilate, I guessed right, I guessed right on the apprentice. One more text, cute emojis and next, bringing full attention to the apprentice... and for a moment I don’t feel alone, when I’m alone, when I get high and watch the apprentice.
