(Check out my book Hot Naked Tits.)
No matter how much pussy I get I’m Elliott Rodger. Couples on the street make me sick. Tepid Tinder response means I’m a chromosome damaged power line baby. My mom should sue a drug company. No response means I don’t exist.
Had a date yesterday. I liked her. She’s pretty. Likes the same books as me. She too is a writer toiling in obscurity. Worried about losing her voice in work, worried about time. We lock in on the same sentences in stories. I want a relationship. So I did what my sponsor told me: don’t make a move. Instead I said: I’d like to see you again. Peter Brady voice crack. She said yes but I think she was lying. At the end I gave her a peck on the bottom lip. We agreed to go to dinner this week. I felt like I had no dick.
Fuck right away or nothing. Fuck right away or they hate you. Fuck right away or you’re a worm, and the horror of seeing it proved over and over.
Went inside and tried to jerk it to her but I couldn’t make it stick. Had to switch over to the fat Chinese girl stuffing her grapefruit tits into a black bikini top in the Target dressing room. I masturbate to women I don’t like. That’s who I can build a story around where they’d fuck me. Hideous in itself, but also: she’s a human being. An artist. Worried about losing her voice in work. We share things but she looks a certain way so she’s a hole. She wouldn’t fuck me so I went into my “good” date with no swagger. I resent her for that.
In my heart I’m thirteen. The first age where you get girls or not. Whatever happens after, you’re stuck that way. You either get on the bus or the fucker pulls off and you’re chasing it forever. Making up for thirteen when you’re fifty.
Meanwhile girls fly to fuck me because of this web site. Mail me their panties. I’m fucking a Pasadena City College freshman with CUNT cut into her arm. She stops by, eats chicken, sticks her sweaty summer twat in my face, its fill-me-with-babies-teenage perfume. Sits on my cock until I cum like a machine gun. Leaves with a kind word. I like her spirit. Her perfect teenage skin next to my grisly middle aged sac with its snowy hairs like Kenny Rogers’ beard. She talks about her homework and it makes me hard.
If I text her and she’s doing laundry I think: she’s leaving me. Sometimes when she’s with me I think she’s leaving. I can literally feel thirst while my dick is inside a hot young teen.
This is why I hate women. They’ll leave me because I don’t like myself. Then I don’t like myself because they leave me. When does it stop. Maybe if I joined a band.
delicioustacos 
Does your book have original material? I will need to get that fucker if it does. Do you have illustrations in it? Man DT I am happy you wrote it no matter what the fuck is in it , it is a step in the right direction, to go with those other 12 steps you have been up to as of late. Congratulations man!
I’m pretty sure if you look inside a 19 year old’s cunt, you see Jesus giving you a thumbs up.
Sweaty hot pussy…yep
Your sponsor is looking out for your sobriety, not your meat stick. This girl sounds nice. Take her out and fuck her good. I know that feeling of not being able to get stiff from girls you connect with but being excited to fury by some chubby brown skinned whore. It’s god fucking with us i think
This is a universal for men and women. You get horny for people you hate and often think are ugly (bad boy creeps for women). Makes things so difficult. Blah!
why can’t you bone-down the same day AND continue seeing her? nothing else makes sense to me
power line babies are not a thing
Oh, are yiu a writer now or like that guy who works at starbucks but is really a comedy wrier?
Major portions of this could easily be narrated by Jason Alexander