Confessions of a Coomah

Now that I'm out of Gogia, I can safely tell you that I've been a practicing coomah for the entire summer. You haven't heard about my Italian keeper because he's been a nice guy and nice guys are no fun to blog about unless they're funny looking or they have a third nipple.

I did date a 3 nippled dude earlier this year. He was rather sensitive about it but it didn't bother me. Most people only have two and there's nothing wrong with having a spare nipple...as a matter of fact, it could come in handy if some psycho slices one of them off. I've noticed that third nipples are usually smaller than the original two. It's sort of like that spacer spare tire in your car. And there's really no need to be embarrassed, most people are easily convinced that the extra nipple is a mole.

You wouldn't think you'd see too many people with 3 nipples in the course of a lifetime. But, this is the third person I've met with 3 nipples. I have a great friend named Melissa who thought her superfluous nipple WAS a mole until she became a mother and the third nipple began to squirt milk. That's definitely a sign of a nipple and not a mole. The third 3rd nippled person that I met was a little boy for whom I used to babysit. It didn't produce milk and he didn't really care about it then so there's nothing to say about that nipple.

But, my Italian stud muffin only had two nipples. Neither one of them was a mole...I examined them...both...thoroughly. BUT...he did have this little Orion's Belt thing happening with a few moles downtown...if you know what I mean. I never neglected to say hello to those 3 cuties when I was in the neighborhood. I would give them a smile and a kiss before I visited the larger bodies in that system. I miss my little constellation.

Italian dude was good for other things besides only having two nipples and a few stars in his pants...he was Italian...and quite the large one at that. His nationality alone frightened my idiot roommates who were sure that he was a connected mobster. They left pretty easily when I kicked them out even though they could have stretched it out for at least a month. I'm sure stud muffin had something to do with that.

I wouldn't have minded if he WAS a mobster. Of course, I wasn't stupid enough to irritate him anymore than I had to...simply by being a woman. Actually, I tried quite hard to keep him smiling. After all, if you're gonna be a coomah, you might as well be a good coomah.

I'm not sure what to do now that I'm thousands of miles away from Italian dude...I suppose I should find a new one. That's a shame because I really like the old one. He had the absolute best pillow belly in the entire world. It'll be hard to replace. Also, every time I look up at the night sky and see Orion's Belt, I'll remember how Italian dude trimmed his pubes so that I could see HIS Orion's Belt as I was navigating my way to it's neighbors. Oh, I'll even miss the 4:30 shadow he had on his balls after shaving them in the morning and visiting me later in the day. Yep, you don't know what you've got til you've lost it.

How sad. I miss you Italian dude.