My Desire For Sex Is My Downfall
Brad Pitt doesn't want sex.
But if he said he's turned on by women covering themselves in milk and speaking in Vietnamese, you'd better damn well invest in dairy and Vietnamese-to-English dictionaries.
I am not Brad Pitt.
Anyway, I'm desparate for pussy. Need it like water in the desert.
I know this because I mentioned necrophilia when I was chatting with this girl I like, which at the time seemed funny and non-sequitur, but now just seems sad and funny.
Basically, I talked about how necrophilia was incorporated into a WWE storyline. I'd been reading about it yesterday. Then I went on how you can't have sex with dead girls. Muscles or something.
I like her because she hates everything, speaks confidently and smartly, and smokes. I like women who smoke. I mean, they live longer than men, so this makes it about equal. She's pretty - not crazy beautiful, not thin much, but not fatty.
Like this girl Ashley who's right behind me. I checked - she has hairier arms than me.
Oh well, she has a boyfriend. She mentioned it earlier. Maybe a part of my subconsciousness clicked in to the "What the fuck" mode with that comment, and opened up the verboten jokes aspect. I've been lacking in the infatuation department for two years, and the mushy parts of my brain/my heart/my penis that lives for stimulation and being stimulated by vaginas.
Once again, necrophilia destroys a relationship.
Also, I'm examining my social interactions over the day, and I have this chronic habit of making self-depracating jokes even when they're not funny. If someone calls me handsome, I'm not handsome. If someone calls me funny, I'm not funny. If someone says I'm ugly, I silently look at the floor.
Which may lead to my penis being virginal. Perhaps.
I think my problem is that I need to date a chick I could conceivably break up with. Which means lowering my standards. But right now my brain is at that part now, but the mushy parts of my brain/my heart/my penis ain't going for any of that. They've got masturbation methadone to keep them going on that.
By the way, best headline of the day, from BBC: "Gay cowboy film scoops Globes." Hah.
Seriously, is there any form of masculinity that isn't formed in violence, money, or acquiring females? You know, the gangster masculinity, the rich guy masculinity, the smooth pimp/Make me money bitch masculinity? Whatever happened to the strong, silent type?
Meh.
But if he said he's turned on by women covering themselves in milk and speaking in Vietnamese, you'd better damn well invest in dairy and Vietnamese-to-English dictionaries.
I am not Brad Pitt.
Anyway, I'm desparate for pussy. Need it like water in the desert.
I know this because I mentioned necrophilia when I was chatting with this girl I like, which at the time seemed funny and non-sequitur, but now just seems sad and funny.
Basically, I talked about how necrophilia was incorporated into a WWE storyline. I'd been reading about it yesterday. Then I went on how you can't have sex with dead girls. Muscles or something.
I like her because she hates everything, speaks confidently and smartly, and smokes. I like women who smoke. I mean, they live longer than men, so this makes it about equal. She's pretty - not crazy beautiful, not thin much, but not fatty.
Like this girl Ashley who's right behind me. I checked - she has hairier arms than me.
Oh well, she has a boyfriend. She mentioned it earlier. Maybe a part of my subconsciousness clicked in to the "What the fuck" mode with that comment, and opened up the verboten jokes aspect. I've been lacking in the infatuation department for two years, and the mushy parts of my brain/my heart/my penis that lives for stimulation and being stimulated by vaginas.
Once again, necrophilia destroys a relationship.
Also, I'm examining my social interactions over the day, and I have this chronic habit of making self-depracating jokes even when they're not funny. If someone calls me handsome, I'm not handsome. If someone calls me funny, I'm not funny. If someone says I'm ugly, I silently look at the floor.
Which may lead to my penis being virginal. Perhaps.
I think my problem is that I need to date a chick I could conceivably break up with. Which means lowering my standards. But right now my brain is at that part now, but the mushy parts of my brain/my heart/my penis ain't going for any of that. They've got masturbation methadone to keep them going on that.
By the way, best headline of the day, from BBC: "Gay cowboy film scoops Globes." Hah.
Seriously, is there any form of masculinity that isn't formed in violence, money, or acquiring females? You know, the gangster masculinity, the rich guy masculinity, the smooth pimp/Make me money bitch masculinity? Whatever happened to the strong, silent type?
Meh.
posted by Marshall McMahon at 12:59 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home