Page 25 of Frank

It’s not my fault they’re so damn small you need a fucking magnifying glass to see them.

That’s a genetic issue, so take it up with my parents.

Oh, who am I kidding? A plank of wood has bigger tits than me.

Where did I put Jose?

Grabbing the bottle from the top of the fridge, I looked at the swirling liquid of golden yumminess in my hands and shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t have to hit my face with a wet mop.”

I unscrewed the cap and chugged it.

Ignoring the burn, I took my liquid friend and plopped on my couch. It was too early for pajamas and I still wanted to stew.

I had every right.

I had worked at that damn hospital since I graduated from medical school.

Five years!

Five long... long damn years.

Taking another swig, I laid my head back against the couch and moaned, “Why me?”

Yeah, I was also a wallower.

None of this ‘the sun will come out tomorrow,’ shit for me.

I wallowed in my misery.

I embraced it.

I built it up and then celebrated it with a bottle of wine or Jack, or if I was really depressed, Jose. ‘Cause let’s face it, Jose Cuervo could make even the most stubborn person cut loose and travel to pound-town with any male with a working penis.

Fuck me.

And just like that, images of last night came rushing forward.

There wasn’t a time in my life when shit went sideways that I didn’t take five minutes for my own personal pity party.

I kind of rocked it too.

One time, I drank myself into such an oblivion I lost three days.

Gone.

Never got ‘em back.

Still don’t know what I did.

Then there was the time my pity party took me all the way to Gulf Shores. However, my last pity party was one for the record books. I got toe-up and split sideways. Woke up to the man of my fucking dreams looking all yummy and scrumdiddlyumptious.

And what did I do?

I handcuffed his fine ass to his bed before sneaking out of his room without a thank you for the multitude of orgasms he gave me. Hell, just thinking about his magnificent dick had my girly parts quivering with excitement.

I was so screwed.

To make matters worse, I just drank the last of my tequila.