I Miss You

8 Dec

I miss you. I miss the smell of your hair. I miss your robust deltoids. I miss your dangling purple giblets. You have the hugest most developed cuntflaps I have ever seen. I miss them, I miss your moans, I miss your squinting eyes when you cum on top of me. I miss the dog licking my cum off the sheets, I miss the smell of the back of your head; I miss your tan, you always had a great tan. I miss you but what are you gonna do. If I got back together with you it’d be the same as before. Already I’m sending you dumb texts and I know they’re bombing. And it crushes me. So I can’t be near you. Can’t talk to you. But I miss you on me. I miss cumming in you. Waking up next to you. I miss your girl who has her shit together expensive white duvet. When you showed me pictures of your sister’s wedding I wanted it to be our wedding. I only want to get famous so you regret kicking me to the curb.

8 Responses to “I Miss You”

  1. Anonymous December 8, 2018 at 8:58 pm #

    Ur fundamentally a puss-begging punk

    • delicioustacos December 8, 2018 at 9:12 pm #

      Thanks faggot. That’s the reason I’ve forgotten more pussy than you’ll ever get.

      • Anonymous December 9, 2018 at 1:26 am #

        The caliber of bitch you obsess over for years I can rent for an hour, faggot. As a matter of fact I’m confident I can rent the particular bitch you wrote this post for.

        Btw I’m “negging” your shit book. You’re a secretary in your 40’s with nothing to your name. Any intelligence you were born with, you wasted on this blog and a nonexistent writing career. You resent actual successful men like elon musk who have actually done shit with their lives. Kudos, asshole

      • delicioustacos December 9, 2018 at 8:39 am #

        Fair enough, stud. Enjoy paying for it. I can relate.

      • dark dodecad December 9, 2018 at 11:56 am #

        wait isn’t elon one of the richfags you were sort of generous toward
        i think this guy has got his shit mixed up or something

      • delicioustacos December 9, 2018 at 11:57 am #

        No I said he was a retarded boy seduced by a Zulu witch and given unholy powers.

        I do like Teslas though.

  2. MCG00 December 9, 2018 at 3:27 am #

    Nah, honestly I don’t think the guy is writing to a real girl or ex. He’s just pulp writing. It’s fiction. I say this because it has all the bits of satire with humor of a desperado ‘miss you love letter’ that a third party would write. Like if he was writing it for a buddy. It has an IDGAF for the actual outcome tone to it. And the recipient female, well her hamster just might laugh reading it on the commode. She’ll wet wipe her asshole clean, give him a call and give him one more insincere receptacle dumping but she’ll still remain the flaky ho she was before.

    I sense this because I myself have written college papers for other people. Not professionally but for barter stuff. One guy I wrote a term paper for gave me a Rolex that I wore around clubs until one night, I woke up behind the place with a bump on my head and no watch. I approached many a materialistic ho flashing that watch. That Roley was like my Ferrari when I was a poor 19yo bullshitter club shark.

    So I can read the personal disconnect between the lines in the above piece. I had the same IDGAF mindset writing term papers so I can see it when I read it. It unlocks your imagination in writing, just like being creative with game/approaches when you don’t GAF. It’s about having fun above all.

    If it were a true ‘love letter’ it would be a sincere crying pitiful diatribe that is unreadable and makes you want to vomit.

    INTERESTING FACTOID – – During the 80s and prior, real ‘love letters’ were sent in the mail because there was no social media, no email and no internet. Postal carriers delivered bags upon bags of love letters daily. Frequently postal workers would open and read letters with lipstick kisses on them and hearts drawn on the outside. . . . And those postal workers went BONKERS. What they read was so convoluted and twisted that they went on ‘postal’ rampages.

    NOW NOTICE today you never hear of postal employees going ‘postal anymore? It’s because there are no more of those awful LOVE LETTERS to deliver. It’s all junk mail so postal carrier is the happiest job around these days.

    I GUARANTEE you never want to read someone else’s drama. It’s not healthy to read other people’s love letters, especially the psalms of some tearful beta about to shove a .38 special into their nose. It’s just not good for you to know the innermost mind of someone else like that period.

    IN FACT I would rather watch two turtles slooowly making love in a puddle of diarrhea before I would read someone else’s genuine . . . looove letter. Eeeeew!

  3. dickycone December 9, 2018 at 12:50 pm #

    Tacos, most of us who are still human inside have that one girl in our past. No shame in it. I think Roosh came up with the best way to deal with it:

    “Instead of feeling like an idiot, you must feel like a victor, because you did have sex with her. How many guys will she have sex with during her prime years between 18-28? Even if she’s a big slut, less than 100. This means that out of 3.5 billion men in the world, you were one of the lucky ones chosen to fornicate with her. There have only been 266 popes since 33 AD—you are essentially one of the sexual popes of her life, a special man who was at the right place at the right time with the right words and the right moves. Even if you didn’t get to hit it as many times as you would’ve liked, do you not see how you came out on top? Do you not appreciate the incredible feat you’ve accomplished?”

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