What if she texts you the next day before you even get out of bed and says “I just want you to know that I had a REALLY great time last night– let me know when you want to hang! ” And then later that same day– “Dinner?
” And so on and then like four days later “I think I might be having a problem with my phone- some people aren’t getting my txts– are u doing anything 2night?
” What if you didn’t pull out and in the back of your mind all day at work you are just thinking about having a stupid baby with this person, having to talk to her every day for eighteen years; you just want to text her to see if she got her period but you know any contact is gonna be met with fifteen thousand prompts to do something with this humorless and semiliterate person. Who looked kind of like Emily Blunt when you were drunk but when you woke up it became clear that she had that weird bad skin where the makeup they use to cover up the bad skin gets trapped in the craters and on the protuberances and thickly coats the weird fine downy hairs all over her face; her gums are far too large and vividly purple for her small teeth, and yet she feels no compunction whatsoever about smiling with her top lip all the way up by her nostrils like the giraffe at the zoo that constantly reaches for the eucalyptus branch that is hanging just outside the bars of its cage… any person with any degree of self awareness who had ever once smiled in a mirror would have immediately taken rigorous steps to train themselves to smile while leaving their generous top lip draped over these fifteen thousand miles of veiny grape Hubba Bubba colored gums… why is her mouth the same color inside as that of a black German Shepherd; shouldn’t the inside of everyone’s mouth be the same color… must be these weird Mexican chicks with their Aztec blood… but anyway, that’s the real problem. Not that she has these minor physical drawbacks but that she’s the sort of person who never even notices them, even though everyone else does instantly and they are appalled. God forbid I have impregnated this woman and the resulting offspring inherits this subhuman level of self-examination. This person smiles like a dog drags its gross pussy and ass across the rug in front of company for sexual gratification. Just go home and go to bed for Christ’s sake.
A Thing That Booze Makes You Stop thinking
13 SepArt Tuesday: Cities of Ref Splooge (NSFW)
11 SepSomeone was talking about “Cities of Refuge,” apparently an old Hebrew tradition where if you killed someone and sought sanctuary in certain towns, vengeance seekers couldn’t come get you. Continue reading
Dear (REDACTED),
11 SepHaving you as a girlfriend would be like having a wolverine as a pet. I don’t want you as a girlfriend. I would rather have a lamprey as a fleshlight than have you as a girlfriend.
But goddamit, I also do want you as a girlfriend. In that little place where, you know, most chicks don’t stick with you; you go on a couple dates with them, maybe you fuck them a few times, but you don’t wake up on your couch with your boner going into your pillow and think for just a second that you’re waking up next to them. And it’s the sweetest second of your life. That little place, where like, that cute chick from work that you IM with all day, and when she says that she had a fight with her boyfriend your heart kind of gets ahead of your mind and you get a headrush for a second. And then the next day she says they got back together and it’s like your dog died. And your eyes tear up a little. You can’t help it. Probably if she saw it she would think you’re a fucking chump, because, you know, nothing earns a woman’s contempt like being into her.
I don’t know what it is. You are a ridiculous wastrel who is probably a decade away from being done fucking boys in bands. But still.
Lunch Break Diary: An Attractive Woman Sits Near Me
10 SepThere is an attractive woman sitting across from me. A very attractive woman. A “9,” in the parlance of those people who use numbers for these things. An “L.A. 9.”
She looks familiar. I feel like she was the casting assistant on some movie I worked on. It is completely plausible that such a person would be sitting across from me on that bench. But if it is her, she doesn’t recognize me, or doesn’t want to acknowledge me. Maybe it’s not even her though. All good looking people essentially look alike. All perfect looking people.
I would never in a billion years go over and talk to this person. I wouldn’t have the faintest idea of what to say, aside from some obviously fabricated ruse that was just basically– I think you are good looking, and I would like to have sex with you. There is no other reason on the planet anyone would ever speak to anyone out of nowhere, except maybe abject loneliness. And yet here I am. I am thinking about her. I am writing in my stupid journal about her; she is looking at her phone and eating a ham sandwich. On wheat bread, with lettuce peeking out from the crusts. Homemade sandwich. Someone made her this sandwich, or she conscientiously packed it for herself. Good for her. More people should take the time and care to prepare their own meals. It’s good for your health, it’s exactly to your tastes, and it saves money.
Continue reading
Any Fun Plans for the Weekend?
7 SepI’m gonna fuck a goat and set a school on fire. I’m gonna inject my wang with saline so it’s nine inches long and four inches wide and then run naked through a church service. I’m gonna eat a Volvo 240 station wagon and shit out a perfectly sculpted steel statue of Minnie Pearl fully nude delivering an infant Kenny Rogers while forest creatures look on in awe. I’m gonna grow six extra tits and suckle a pack of needy orphans. I’m gonna huff household cleaning products ’till my eyes look like an albino rabbit and take a journey that is at once within myself and also to the outermost reaches of the cosmos. It will last a lifetime but when I look at my watch only seconds will have passed.
To the Only Girl I Wanted to Message Me Back
5 SepI feel bad now. I was genuinely moved by your blog post about the ass speculum. Or rather, the vaginal speculum, not intended for use in the ass, being inserted into your ass so another performer could spit jizz she had just sucked out of a guy’s huge dick, which had been primed to ejaculation by fucking you in the ass, back into your ass, whence you would drip it into a cup and she and you would drink it from a straw. Or something. Frankly the chain of events was a little difficult to follow but I understood the larger point that you showed up thinking you were gonna do a 3 way with a guy and a chick and get fucked in the asshole as part of it but were presented, without foreknowledge, with a gigantic plexiglass spreading tool and told you would have to have it open and abrade your asshole in the “piledriver” position. Then get fucked in the ass with your rectum torn and bloody and ragged from this thing. It sounds horrible, and you should have walked away, but you did it anyway, out of fear you wouldn’t be able to work again if you said no. I’m sorry that happened to you. Continue reading
Protected: Weekend Journal 9-3-12 Part 2: The Other Shit, without the Random Naked Chick Sucking My Cock While a Frenchman Rawdogged Her
4 SepThe Googleplex
1 SepI love the big fantasy, that people who work for Google are playing ping pong and napping in giant bean bag chairs all day at the Googleplex. That the whole company is just a giant rumpus room in a split level ranch home from 1972. Florence Henderson will bring pigs in blankets around and there’s plenty of Sunny D in the fridge. In fact it has to be a giant taint smelling veal pen where unlaid nerds are just staring glassy-eyed at computers and coding for sixteen hours at a stretch. Or managing people who are coding, figuring out how to extract the most amount of coding out of them for the least amount of money. And there are no women, despite, I’m sure, their efforts to bend over backwards to try to recruit as many women as possible to code out of a sense of social justice or whateverthefuck. There are no women for them to hire. Women aren’t interested in coding. And it’s because coding sucks. Women are right not to be interested in coding. In math, engineering, science, the so-called STEM fields– all those things are fucking excruciating and women are smart to stay the fuck away from them and the flabby Aspergian gnomes who populate those fields.
But if I were a recruiter, I would save a bunch of dough on the ping pong tables and face massages and just hire five decent looking chicks. Every coder in the world would flock there.
New Book
delicioustacos 