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Crying Gaor is a fake display of sadness or remorse.
Derived from an ancient anecdote that a crying gator will weep to lure in its prey into its jaws ...
When a Crying Gator spends enough time out of the water, their eyes dry out so they weep to keep them lubricated.
A fake display of sadness or remorse.
Derived from an ancient anecdote that a crying gator will weep to lure in its prey into its jaws ...
When a Crying Gator spends enough time out of the water, their eyes dry out so they weep to keep them lubricated.
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False, insincere, or hypocritical display of sadness or remorse. Insincere remorse.
Derived from an ancient anecdote that a crocodile will weep to lure in its victims ...We all know a crying gator.
1. A superficial request that solicits a sexually attractive person to accompany another in public, because they are attractive. Not because they are intelligent or having a relationship. (See Escort) Usually developing from conflict between the desire to be noticed and the fear of being humiliated. (See Inferiority Complex).
2. A social invitation to "lock" arms with someone more desirable in order to enhance financial and sexual appeal. (Social desirability) (See Social Proof)
Wealthy elderly men request young âarm candyâ to deny the passing years. (See Prostitute)
Mandy Pandy: "Shauna, you got an arm candy request from Samuel today this Saturday to his ex's birthday... I already confirmed you ;)"
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Usually poisonous and known to cause cancer, it is a chemical, herb, narcotic, or medicated substance packed into a cylindrical form that you light or inhale through smoking paraphernalia.
He pulled a smokey biscuit from behind his ear and placed it in his mouth. He searched for a lighter.
"Do you need a light?" she emerged with a lit match. The deliberate inversion of a subtle courtship signal was obvious, but an afterthought to the pang of addiction. Cupping his hands around the flame, he inhaled, deeply. "Thank you, so this is what it feels like to be a chick?"
She shook the flame from the match and tossed it in the ashtray.
Puffing in silence, their smoke thickened and curled around them like a wall of indifference. Eventually, she rubbed hers out with the toe of her red stiletto, he stamped out his, and they went back into the club.
She finished the smokey biscuit and rubbed it out with the toe of her stiletto.