Fuck- anyway. Going to Anne’s. I will not be fucking Anne. Right? Or I mean, what if I will be fucking Anne? That would be awesome. But I will not be fucking Anne.
I mean, she just broke up with a dude—what does this mean? Why do I care? She is not going to be my girlfriend. I don’t want her to be my girlfriend. But I would like to see her naked.
I’m excited just to spend time around other human beings. Especially chicks, who—like, a lot of my friends are hot chicks. But there is literally no chance of me fucking them. An earthquake could happen, and they could be splayed out naked, and I could also be naked with a boner and a beam from some building could fall on top of us at a serendipitous angle and force my dick into them, but still somehow I would not be fucking them. Whereas, Anne, and that friend of hers, there is merely a 99.99999 % chance that I will not be fucking them. Somehow this is exciting to me. Like, if pussy were money, I would be the guy who spends the last dollar from his welfare check on scratch tickets. Continue reading
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