Welcome to another clothesless confession. I am stripped and ready for my admission of guilt. I pour for you the contents of my head onto the operating table. Dissect, probe, and examine my thoughts at your leisure.
I went on another hunt today. The game is still far from reach, but I persist. The morning heat tempted me to stay by the coolness of the fan. The twins wanted to mull over past failures. I sipped my juice slowly and curled myself in a ball on the cool floor of my room. The day was ready to slip from my fingers, but then a thought pushed through the sticky folds of my mind. I need money. I pulled my listless limbs from their protective ball and turned on the shower. I left unsatisfied with my outward appearance. I argued with a friend over the definition of infidelity during a parking lot break. I had an afternoon breakdown over the impossibility of my long distance love.
I have crawled from the darkness of my thoughts to write this blog. The twins have been silenced by the promise of booze.
Recycle: to treat or process (used or waste materials) so as to make suitable for reuse. Recycle men to conserve your sexual partner count.
One night while suffering from a bout of heat induced insomnia, I decided to aid in the energy crisis and switch off my laptop. I chose instead a later brain tumor. I found my cell phone buried under a heap of "clean" clothes and dialed my friend. We discussed the usual business, covered all the bases of gossip, and found ourselves sitting silent; on the phone only for the company. As is custom with her and I, our conversation soon turned from silent to sexual. We decided to make a "sex list." The idea behind the list was fairly simply; write down the names of all those with whom you have slept. We formed two rules to govern the list.
· No name, no list.
· One time penetration does not count.
Three minutes ticked by and we had completed our lists. The laughter ended after we had concluded our ridicule of all the names on the list. To kill time and our equally overactive minds we decided to expand our enterprise and make lists for friends, the names and numbers based on gossip and slander. We truly are a terrible pair.
I, being a closet feminist, drafted a plan for women to conserve their numbers. It is well known, whether openly admitted or not, that women with a high number of sexual partners are thought of as sluts, whores, and all that is wrong with mankind. I have a solution to this problem of waste.
I went on another hunt today. The game is still far from reach, but I persist. The morning heat tempted me to stay by the coolness of the fan. The twins wanted to mull over past failures. I sipped my juice slowly and curled myself in a ball on the cool floor of my room. The day was ready to slip from my fingers, but then a thought pushed through the sticky folds of my mind. I need money. I pulled my listless limbs from their protective ball and turned on the shower. I left unsatisfied with my outward appearance. I argued with a friend over the definition of infidelity during a parking lot break. I had an afternoon breakdown over the impossibility of my long distance love.
I have crawled from the darkness of my thoughts to write this blog. The twins have been silenced by the promise of booze.
Recycle: to treat or process (used or waste materials) so as to make suitable for reuse. Recycle men to conserve your sexual partner count.
One night while suffering from a bout of heat induced insomnia, I decided to aid in the energy crisis and switch off my laptop. I chose instead a later brain tumor. I found my cell phone buried under a heap of "clean" clothes and dialed my friend. We discussed the usual business, covered all the bases of gossip, and found ourselves sitting silent; on the phone only for the company. As is custom with her and I, our conversation soon turned from silent to sexual. We decided to make a "sex list." The idea behind the list was fairly simply; write down the names of all those with whom you have slept. We formed two rules to govern the list.
· No name, no list.
· One time penetration does not count.
Three minutes ticked by and we had completed our lists. The laughter ended after we had concluded our ridicule of all the names on the list. To kill time and our equally overactive minds we decided to expand our enterprise and make lists for friends, the names and numbers based on gossip and slander. We truly are a terrible pair.
I, being a closet feminist, drafted a plan for women to conserve their numbers. It is well known, whether openly admitted or not, that women with a high number of sexual partners are thought of as sluts, whores, and all that is wrong with mankind. I have a solution to this problem of waste.
The 2008 Official Conservation Plan
For the women not yet recycling I suggest the lie when asked how many partners you have had. If your beliefs forbid the practice of lying, I then suggest whispering to your bedside lover, his legs entwined with yours, "The past does not matter when we have the present." If both methods fail and the eyes reserved for strippers and whores turn to you, gather your clothes and leave him to sit alone and wipe the look of shock, a mask for his true disgust, from his face.
To avoid the scene described, take action now and begin your own recycling plan.
Our motto: Gain no new partners! Recycle the used!....
To avoid the scene described, take action now and begin your own recycling plan.
Our motto: Gain no new partners! Recycle the used!....
Step 1: Make a list of all your sexual partners following the given guidelines.
Step 2: Place a small star by those to whom you are still attracted.
Step 3: Cross off those in an admitted relationship.
Step 4: Take out your phone and start the text foreplay.
Step 2: Place a small star by those to whom you are still attracted.
Step 3: Cross off those in an admitted relationship.
Step 4: Take out your phone and start the text foreplay.
These four steps of our easy to follow recycling plan will ensure that you gain no new numbers. With our 2008 Conservation Plan there will be no more awkward bedroom moments! You will no longer risk eternal damnation by lying!
This ad has been approved by me bitches.
Fine print: Men too can use our easy to follow recycling plan. Our records indicate that men are granted access to whoredom in far greater numbers.
Happy Fourth of July my fellow Americans!
This ad has been approved by me bitches.
Fine print: Men too can use our easy to follow recycling plan. Our records indicate that men are granted access to whoredom in far greater numbers.
Happy Fourth of July my fellow Americans!
"Cut myself on angel's hair and baby's breathe"
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