Tag Archives: horse cock

Something About Some Woman

10 Feb

You meet a girl. She makes you horny. So you like her. But you know she’ll bug the fuck out of you. Sooner or later.

How do you not push that moment. When you are “good with women” you force yourself to make it happen too fast. You look for flaws in her to gird yourself. Make it so she can’t get to you. Love is a fight and you stay on top by loving the other person less. You get to where it’s like this right away. From the first date. First minute. You get girls so you can feel something. But you can only get girls if you feel nothing.

This girl, though. It felt like nature meant for us to breed. Her armpits smelled like our kids would be immune to some ancient parasite. I want to rut with her and fill her soft belly full of babies. I like her accent. Her eyes. But she will bug the fuck out of me sooner or later. The “game” part of you pushes for that moment. Too fast.

Don’t push it. And don’t pull it back. Just feel what you feel. But you tell yourself: snap out of it. This is fleeting bullshit, your mind says. You know it will end so end it now. There’s no free lunch and you can’t break even. Love is a made up story. If you like them they don’t like you.

What can you do. God is evil. She will bug the fuck out of me.

Sooner rather than later.

 

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The Thirst

8 Jan
image stolen from 6thgradeliteraturevocabulary2011.wikispaces.com

image stolen from 6thgradeliteraturevocabulary2011.wikispaces.com

Now I need pussy again. Even though it hasn’t been long. Barely even fucked the last girl; she got scared and asked me to stop. I reminded her of some past trauma. But it went in. It counts. What was that, six weeks. Already I’m ugly in the mirror. Two weeks off from the gym and my body is pasty and fat. Objectively there’s maybe a three per cent difference. If I’d just torn off a new piece of young ass I’d look within striking distance of Ryan Reynolds, soft bathroom light be damned. Six weeks.

I’m acutely aware of my lack of money, my lack of job prospects, the filth in my house. Cat hair, grease and spiderwebs everywhere. Boxes of old bills and DMV letters I don’t need but can’t be assed to sort through. Fish tank with long tufts of kelly green algae blowing in the filter current. Edges of the cat’s litter box spattered with shit. Taint smelling underwear hanging off furniture like Tibetan prayer flags. When you stop getting laid this shit starts to matter. Not that I’m going to do anything about it. Continue reading →

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Reader Mailbag: How to Get Pussy on OKCupid

6 Oct

“Crom” writes:

Since it seems you’ve banged a ridiculous amount of women from OKC, would it be possible for you to drop a datasheet/guide on OKC from opener-bang?

Or at least, yoda, just help this young man along, mentor him and pass on your legacy? HAHA

because I get many profiles views, replies, and numbers but I have a hard time turning that into dates. I know all the basic logistical shit and I’m not new to game. can you show me a screencap/transcript of how you play things?

I typically have decent openers, but the replies from women are so banal or the profiles are bare and generic, I have very little to work with. How do go from opener>chatting>IRL meeting. I’m getting phone numbers but having difficulty with getting meet ups.

You’re probably sick of jackasses like me asking you things like this so I understand. >_>

Don’t listen to me. I know nothing. I’ve blown more easy ass than I’ve gotten. What I do get doesn’t make me happy. My OKCupid tricks will not help anybody. The short version is: be me. Then go on a date and behave like me. I am over six feet tall, white*, and not ugly. I am a hilarious genius. Fuck off if you don’t think so. The way to get pussy on OKCupid is to be a tall, not ugly, hilarious genius.

Then again I’m broke as shit and a filthy alcoholic pervert. I make this known. Reading my profile, you can almost smell my broken, hissing toilet. See the house centipede as long as a dollar bill gnawing a fresh log of tuna fish shit in my cat’s litter box. You read my profile and you know that there’s a half empty flour sack sitting torn open in the back of my cupboard, swarming with weevils. I come out and say it: I want to have filthy unprotected gutter sex on our first date and then never speak again. I still get laid. The women are often wonderful. So maybe there’s something to it. Continue reading →

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Reader Mailbag: What Are You Gonna Do

16 Jan

Various concerned readers ask:

Did you get fired yet?  When are you getting fired?  Do you know what you’re going to do for a job?  Are you scared? Etc.

depression unemployment

I’m still working, but not for long.  Any day.  I have found no job, and that’s because I want no job.  I want to be unemployed. I want to take a break and write all day, and fuck you, that’s what I’m gonna do.  Not “fuck you” as in you, but you know, naysayers.  I have fear and insecurity about it, that my writing won’t be any good.  But fuck you, it will be good.  Or at least, it’ll start out at whatever level it’s at and, one hopes, get better as I practice.  Because what you’re seeing is 25 minutes per day.  Maybe an hour on the weekends.  As soon as I get a good idea going I have to get up and go do some work related shit.  No more.
Continue reading →

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Talk to Your Kids about Sex

7 Apr

My mother was a feminist. My single mother, which means, God bless her, that I was raised as a feminist.  It means my sex and relationship talks from her were about respecting women.  About not taking advantage of women, not hurting them, not raping them.  After my stepdad came into our lives I never discussed these things with him.  It took a few conversations with my father to sort out the one thing that I really and truly needed to know about sex, which is: you’re not a bad looking dude, and don’t worry, you can get laid.

He’d had a very different life than me.  I lost my virginity at seventeen; at that age he had been picked up for dealing heroin and given the choice of going to the clink or enlisting in the marines at the height of Vietnam.  He told me stories like “one time I beat up this black guy so bad that I was checking the papers the next day to make sure I hadn’t killed him.”  He had a tough, colorful life.  I was on scholarship to a prep school where they had not one but two competing a capella groups that in any sensible community would have had the shit kicked out of them on a daily basis.  I was going to a school where they flew in math geniuses from China and all the girls wore docksiders and no makeup and were second cousins with Winston Churchill and if they ever saw a penis they would explode.  The occasional accidental erection of their horse was the only stiff penis they had ever seen, and they had absolutely no curiosity about expanding their knowledge.  A rich new England WASP girl is basically born elderly, in terms of her sexuality.  This is why she has time to focus on things like perfecting her application essay to intern at the U.N.  When I started at this fancy school, it was immediately clear that none of these girls would ever show even the remotest interest in me; they barely showed interest in boys at all.   Continue reading →

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