"I feel like I've gained a lot of principles – a drinking problem and a melted pot of little boys – but at least I'm honest in my words."
I am not going to blog today I told myself. I had allowed for Thursday July 17th to be a day of selfish indulgence. I fell back into my unmade bed around 8:00AM -- realizing that a 6:00AM rising is too early for the unemployed -- and crawled into myself. I put my phone on silent and locked the door -- to allow myself undisturbed sleep until the need to study would break from its cornered position in the cage. During my slumbering I dreamt that a friend sent me links to porn websites, but subsequently my internet went down, and I was unable access them. I awoke to the alarm aroused, stretched my curled figure, and wrapped my legs around the pillow.Marissa: (knocks) Let me in yo.
Dream weaver: Fuck off.
Marissa: Come on, I couldn't access the websites.
Dream weaver: Pervert. Go wash that mouth out.
The thoughts of new sentences to be written pushed me from my bed. I raised my two middle fingers in the air and rolled out of bed. Here I sit at 10:00AM, with unattended study notes by my right, a super-sized glass of iced tea to my left, and a tribute to masturbation on the tip of my fingers.
Masturbation: refers to sexual stimulation, especially of one's own genitals (self masturbation) and often to the point of orgasm, which is performed manually, by other types of bodily contact (except for sexual intercourse), by use of objects or tools, or by some combination of these methods.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masturbate
For the five years of my adult life -- prior to this blessed summer -- I had been undereducated on what was located in between my two twig branch legs. While living in the dark ages I chose not to look down unless necessary, or for reasons of an urgent nature. Masturbation never surfaced during discussions of sex, and I was never forced to admit my ignorance. I honestly thought no females took part in such a primitive act. Those were terrible days when such beliefs were allowed to roam through my mind. Apart from the night when I watched the South Park movie, the clitoris remained an elusive entity.
But then one fine night I learned the true meaning of the word orgasm
Orgasm: (sexual climax) is the conclusion of the plateau phase of the sexual response cycle, and may be experienced by both males and females. Orgasm is characterized by intense physical pleasure, controlled by the involuntary, or autonomic, nervous system.[1]
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orgasm
A pioneer arrived in the desert; complete with an REI sale rack backpack and Swiss army knife (he knew not what beasts he might encounter). He hunted; placed piss soaked t-shirts on his head, and ate the guts of bugs for survival in the harsh terrain. He emerged from his journey malnourished and smelling of urine, but with a completed map – a map that would be used for future expeditions. From this map I was educated in the mystical powers of the desert clitoris, the wild flower that blooms year round in the scorched desert dirt.
Clitoris: is a sexual organ that is present only in female mammals. In humans, the visible button-like portion is located near the anterior junction of the labia minora, above the opening of the urethra and vagina.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orgasm
A pioneer arrived in the desert; complete with an REI sale rack backpack and Swiss army knife (he knew not what beasts he might encounter). He hunted; placed piss soaked t-shirts on his head, and ate the guts of bugs for survival in the harsh terrain. He emerged from his journey malnourished and smelling of urine, but with a completed map – a map that would be used for future expeditions. From this map I was educated in the mystical powers of the desert clitoris, the wild flower that blooms year round in the scorched desert dirt.
Clitoris: is a sexual organ that is present only in female mammals. In humans, the visible button-like portion is located near the anterior junction of the labia minora, above the opening of the urethra and vagina.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clitoris
When the months of summer were upon me I could no longer find the map amongst the heaps of clothing and discarded scraps of paper in my room; I wandered through the desert for many days and many nights with out a map or a compass for direction; in my despair I concluded that I would never find the flower – I was merely another victim to her camouflage. My methods of survival became clear: find a new pioneer (but there was none superior to mine), or continue on, parched and sleep deprived, in my search. On this long night my relationship with masturbation was forged in the fiery pits of infidelity. I chose chastity and dehydration to that of a life shackled in the fiery pit of infidels.
At approximately 0300 hours on June 27th I stumbled upon a single flower growing from seemingly barren ground, and since this discovery I have furiously gathered information on how to best care for the rare specimen.
Conclusion 1: I don't like porn -- porn makes the petals wilt. The men are disgusting and the women are poor actresses – their lack of enjoyment blatant.
Conclusion 2: A boyfriend provides the best fantasy material. There is no better than the gardener.
Conclusion 3: Erotic literature is better than one might think. I have heard of research where plants grow best when talked to by their caretakers. For the flower clitoris, erotic literature is a bedtime story that packs a punch.
Conclusion 4: Both men and women can stick their hands down their pants.
When the months of summer were upon me I could no longer find the map amongst the heaps of clothing and discarded scraps of paper in my room; I wandered through the desert for many days and many nights with out a map or a compass for direction; in my despair I concluded that I would never find the flower – I was merely another victim to her camouflage. My methods of survival became clear: find a new pioneer (but there was none superior to mine), or continue on, parched and sleep deprived, in my search. On this long night my relationship with masturbation was forged in the fiery pits of infidelity. I chose chastity and dehydration to that of a life shackled in the fiery pit of infidels.
At approximately 0300 hours on June 27th I stumbled upon a single flower growing from seemingly barren ground, and since this discovery I have furiously gathered information on how to best care for the rare specimen.
Conclusion 1: I don't like porn -- porn makes the petals wilt. The men are disgusting and the women are poor actresses – their lack of enjoyment blatant.
Conclusion 2: A boyfriend provides the best fantasy material. There is no better than the gardener.
Conclusion 3: Erotic literature is better than one might think. I have heard of research where plants grow best when talked to by their caretakers. For the flower clitoris, erotic literature is a bedtime story that packs a punch.
Conclusion 4: Both men and women can stick their hands down their pants.
No comments:
Post a Comment