Tag Archives: owls

You Should Message Me If Part 2

2 Mar

okc robot

I’m bored with OKCupid.  Thinking about nuking my profile by putting this as the new “You Should Message Me If” section:

Look, just fuck me, for Christ’s sake.  Why do I have to write this god damn essay like I’m applying for college.  Why don’t we just admit that’s what this web site is for.  You’re not gonna meet your husband on here.  You’re gonna meet your husband at work where you’re forced to be around him without an agenda.  You two will slowly grow on one another.  That’s how relationships happen.  Me, you’re gonna let me buy you a couple cheap wines and wake up groggy in the morning with my boner grinding your butt crack.  We will make a half hearted plan to meet up at some art show; whichever one of us is better looking will flake, and we will never speak again.  Why do this fucking kabuki dance.  When you meet your true love in ordinary life I will congratulate you.
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Getting and Keeping

22 Sep

So I need to date a porn star.  I need to date someone who is in the sex industry. Someone whose life’s work is a study of sexiness and how to keep guys’ interest sexually.  Because I become bored with somebody after maybe three times fucking them.  And I’ve given up on them engaging me as human beings.  Or, some of them do, but we end up being friends; they can’t be my girlfriend because I don’t want to fuck them anymore.  The sex is what holds up my being in a relationship.  But the sex becomes a chore, quickly switching from something I have to push for, which lasts all of one first date, to something they have to push for.  When they are no longer new pussy, who gives a shit.  So I need a girl who can overcome that.  And the good news is, I don’t give a shit, you know, morally, if someone is employed in the sex industry.  I am not a stick in the mud.  But just like I kind of see it as my “work” in a relationship to be amusing and witty and full of valuable facts and ideas and etc., I need someone who sees it as their “work” in a relationship to change up their appearance and maybe walk around in a diaper and take an active role in fucking, persuading me to fuck, getting me off in new and innovative ways, etc.

I need to be beguiled.  This is the danger of staying single too long.  Of getting too much pussy.  Of not “putting the pussy on a pedestal.”  Of achieving the dream of being a “player,” someone to whom the act of putting your penis into a new young attractive woman is as rote as putting on a pair of shoes– when you win, it becomes bathwater.  Something you’re just used to.   Continue reading