Another day, another turd. I actually haven’t taken a shit today, but I think it’s become clear I put zero thought in this diary. Speaking of which, can we call this a journal? At least attempt to make me not seem like a thirteen year old girl?
“Dear Diary,
I got my period today. At first I didn’t want to tell Dad, but Mom’s been dead for over 3 years now and I really have no one else to turn to. Why did you shoot yourself, Mom? Was it because Dad never shuts the bathroom door when he loafs? Yesterday I came home from school and he was sitting there with his nut sack lifted out of the toilet. Its like, hello, can you inspect your balls later? I’ve got Jennifer with me. Ugh! Jennifer went all the way with her boyfriend. She says it’s better to get started before your period comes because you won’t get knocked up. I guess I’ve pretty much blown that opportunity. Oh Diary, when will death come? I don’t think I can make it much longer.”
Alright, I need to stop right there. But I do feel like Jennifer is a bad influence on this fictional character. I hope they don’t grow up to be whores. You know what; let’s take care of that right now. This young lady grows up to cure cancer. Testicular cancer! It’s all thanks to her father and seeing him inspect his own balls everyday. Only if Mom could see her now.
Jennifer ended up having thirteen kids from thirteen different dudes. That’s a very unlucky number and thirteen days later she was nailed by an H.E.B. truck. H.E.B. is a local grocery store chain for anyone reading who doesn’t live in the area. Or America for that matter. There could be a chance someone from out of the country is reading my journal. See that, I didn’t call it a diary.
Anyhoo, I didn’t really do a damn thing today. I ran a few errands, washed the bugs off my car and met a few friends at Joe’s Crab Shack for a meeting, which of course included frozen margaritas. I’m volunteering at a cancer benefit tomorrow. It’s a pretty big deal from what I can tell. They do this shit every year. It’s a good thing. I picked up my volunteer t-shirt which of course I will abuse as an excuse to talk with women tomorrow.
“Look, I know it seems strange, but my apartment actually is the closest bathroom.”
No, I’m kidding. I don’t have the balls for that. Plus it’s super creepy and contrary of what you might think of me from reading this diary; I’m a pretty good dude. Ew, look at me pumping myself up. What a douche bag. Speaking of douchey, I actually slept with a few women through a blog I used to write. Women would read my blog everyday and eventually want to meet me and by meet me – I mean fuck me. There’s even a chance one of these women are reading this entry. I may not be sure which one it is, but I would like to thank you for allowing me to stick it inside and blow my own house down about twenty minutes too soon.
Here’s a quick story and then I’ll wrap this shit up so you can check your Facebook. So I started e-mailing this woman who read my blog, we meet up and have a great time. We went to dinner, drinks after and had sloppy drunk sex later that night. In the morning I woke up and she immediately starts jacking me off. This was delightful seeing how I was too drunk to cum the night before.
We say “nay!” to blue balls!
I enjoy women jerking me off, but to be honest I’d rather do it myself while they play with my balls or in this case kiss on my neck. So there I am jacking it and she’s lying next to me naked, kissing my neck and gripping my balls. I announce the fact I’m about to blow my shit and she jumps down to start sucking my dick. I of course cum and she surprisingly swallows.
What a sweetheart.
The only problem is we had been drinking all night long and I’m sure a thick gulp of cum is the last thing her stomach wanted. She got sick and threw up. I completely understood why, but it still kind of makes you feel like shit. I cum in a girl’s mouth and she vomits? You know what I’m saying? It’s like damn girl, am I that fucking disgusting?! I was all conflicted about it. Thankfully we ended up reliving this same kind of moment days later and she didn’t get sick. I’m not that disgusting. I mean, look at me. I taste like strawberries!
So fuck it, I guess I’m done now. You can go sign into Facebook and wish you had more interesting friends.
