Man, I remember back in the day when a really exhilerating night consisted of downing one too many screwdrivers and getting the courage to dance on the mini-stage at a gay bar. I'd come home feeling all mega-adventurous: "I can't believe I DID that, I'm so fucking FREEEEE!" Then I'd vomit and pass out and wake up the next morning regretting everything about the evening except the really funny episode of Boy Meets World I'd watched before I left the house.

Until recently, I'd have to pop atleast three caps, makeout with atleast three different boys, and have sex with at least two of them for my night to be anything out of the ordinary.

Of course, now that I have my Super Magic Ultra Number One Happy Time Snuggle Bunny Sugar Lips, my Saturday nights are no longer quite as risky. And yet, a trillion times more satisfying. Go figure, huh.


Don't you hate when you make a friend, and, they're a really good friend, and you spend a LOT of time with that friend, and they become one of your best friends, and you even live together for awhile... and then, one day, you realize...

That they've become a fucking MISERABLE DOUCHEBAG so convinced that their pathetic, unhappy way of life is the kind that everyone should be living, that they totally cut themselves off from the people that loved them the most because those people refuse to be all angsty and wallow in self-pity all day long?

No? Well lemme tell ya. It kinda sucks. Losing a friend is always shitty. This particular scenario I currently find myself in, however, is uncannily vicious. But I'm pretty much tired of pussy-footing around him, holding my tongue because I don't want to start shit. At last I can unleash all my fury unto him for his stupidity and total refusal to make a better life for himself, emotionally, anyways. And I gotta say, it's gunna be pretty sweet.


Now, because I have little else to contribute, I'm going to tell you about how my sex life is SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOURS. (Unless you're one of my close compadres, because I know the sex you have is fuckin awesome, as you all have spectacular taste in men.) (... ... Um, also, if you're part of mah Krew, and don't really feel like reading details of my sexual escapades, you can totally stop reading here, I fully understand.)

So, Super Magic Ultra Number One Happy Time Snuggle Bunny Sugar Lips, or, S.M.U.N.O.H.Y.S.B.S.L, as I like to call him, has serious fucking skills in the sack. You wouldn't think it to look at him, with his youthful blue eyes, sweet smile, and nerdy glasses. But maaa-aan. Dude can fuck like no one I've ever encountered. I've had more ridonkulously intense orgasms in the past three weeks than I've had in... well in probably my entire sexual history. And he loves it! He fucking LOVES being sweet to me aaalmost as much as likes The Big O for himself. One of the Yucky Ones used to proffess a love of making me come, that it was his passion, and yet, he rarely EVER did, but just assumed that he had in fact - as per always! - succeeded in doing just so, after he climaxed maaaaaaaaybe fifteen minutes post "I'm gunna fuck you aaaaaall night long."

Listen, everyone, I'm really sorry for doing this, because I fucking loooaathe people who boast and chatter about their respective lovebirds with very little care or concern as to your level of interest in such a subject, but I need to do it. I know that many of you, near and dear to my heart as you are, have lately undergone more than your share of frustration at the hands of a stupid, stupid boy, and truly trust me when I say that in no way do I desire to rub my happiness in your face, nor do I believe my situation untouchable from the many circumstances that inflicted your respective relationships, and indeed those of many before us. But I just... I guess I just really want you to know all the things that this boy does for me.

I mean... he listens to me. He really, really listens to me; doesn't use what I'm talking about as a segway for something to tell me about him. He asks me questions, about the things that I like and the person I am; what I want for myself in life, and my favourite kinds of music. Not only does he ask these questions, but he truly pays attention to the answers - he REMEMBERS things, to a fucking tee. Heh, he retains the shit that I say way more than I even do myself. He comes to visit me at work atleast twice a day, always with that smile on his face and kind words on his lips. And he'll take me anywhere. Anywhere I need to be, he's at my side to bring me there, almost entirely regardless of his situation. When he looks at me.. he really sees me. I'm not a fuck toy, or a manifestation of some deep-seeded fantasy of the sexy school teacher he used to masturbate to. I'm the person I've always longed to be to a man, yet thought totally impossible of being. He loves me.

I guess it's a bit hard for me to really convey how... foreign these feelings that I have for him are. Try... try imagining having come to - and in fact, enjoying - the realization that at this point in your life, you simply would not involve yourself in a relationship. You're 87% sure that it's the last thing you need or want, and are totally enjoying fucking whomever you see fit, with absolutely no one to answer to or reprecussions for what you do. It's wicked fun and entirely care-free. The independence and empowerment are exhileratingly thrilling. You know that men are for one thing only - your friends and family and everyone else are who you draw your support and affection from.

And then, like, imagine meeting, by some retarded stroke of what I can only refer to as LUCK, this boy who just pretty much does and is almost everything you've secretly wished for.

BLINDSIGHTED!!

When you're totally fuckin taken by suprise in a way that just really wasn't possible, it kinda breaks your brain. I dunno... I think at this point I'm probably not making a whole lot of sense. This isn't where I saw this thing going - the post, I mean. I should go back and proof read it; delete most of, I bet. But it's done, and I'm not entirely convinced that I actually care what it turns out as.

A POX ON YOU INTERNET, YOU HAVE GRANTED US TOO MUCH POWER.