I recently made the mistake of allowing a woman I met to read this website. Not sure what I was thinking because naturally she came to believe I’m a monster incapable of feeling anything but my own orgasm. I tried to explain this is a joke book I’m working on in between other projects and written in the voice of a character I’ve come up with over the years. He’s a complete shithead, but why the jokes work. I started writing like this way back when working for other humor blogs. It is what it is and I don’t apologize for it because knowing there’s an audience for it. I mean, here you are reading. Anyhoo, I’m unsure if she bought it, but invited me over regardless.
This was last night and I didn’t get over there until around midnight. Her roommates were already locked away in their own rooms with boys doing things I can only guess would make their father’s heads explode. We shared a short conversation on the patio before she ever so sweetly asked, “Do you want to see my bedroom?”
Ugh.
Wish I had this recorded so I could play it over and over again on my deathbed. When the light is eventually hushed from my eyes, I want the last thing I ever see - a beautiful woman asking if I want to see her bedroom. I followed her back there feeling about as giddy as a crackhead holding a crack rock the size of a golf ball. My own balls puckered up flatter than my sister’s chest in the 3rd grade.
Good Lord.
She even had her own bathroom which was great because I could walk naked to piss after sex, but we were nowhere near that point. We fumbled around her room for half a drink before attempting to get in her bed. This woman’s sleeping space came up to my nipples and I needed a running start to get in this fucking thing, but once up there it was like a cloud of great vibes and my cure for feeling old. This was seriously the most pleasant smelling and comfortable bed I’ve ever laid in. A woman’s sleeping space is an instant boner grower for all men. Unless of course the girl is a loser because in that case her bed makes you want to vomit knowing it’s a place where dreams die.
But this bed was tits and she was tits, too. We sinned for the next 25 - 35 minutes before laying on our backs naked under her ceiling fan in attempt to catch our breath. Of course her bed is so high the fan is like three feet away. I sank my head down in the pillow scared I might lose the tip of my nose. I remember wondering how her head wasn’t severed when riding me? Can you imagine? One second she’s arching her back in order to let me all the way inside her and the next her head disappears in a huge explosion of red. Would her body convulse and squeeze tight on my dick, or would she go limp and feel as if sexing warm jello? Or maybe after losing her head, her actions would turn more poetic and it’s like a Sleepy Hollow situation to where she’s the mysterious headless horsewoman and me being her horse. The walls disappear, the beach becomes trees and we’re racing through the midnight fog with capes flaring in search for skulls. This isn’t a nightmare - it’s a fairytale. I’ve already cum twice and we’re not even halfway to Westchester County. The year is 1799 and this Ichabod Crane ain’t wearing no condom.
Then of course I get to bring her home during the holidays so my mother can say, “Sure Jesse, she’s great - minus the trivial factor she’s missing her fucking head.”
Then I say, “Mom, Mom, Mom, let’s not focus on the negative, okay? Just be happy your baby boy isn’t alone anymore… and FYI: she can fly.”
Enough said.
But unfortunately her head didn’t sever, the walls not disappear and I didn’t have the good looks of Johnny Depp. Nope. I’m still a Ginge, she’s still flapping her gills and this is my nightmare. Ugh, I wish someone would chop off my head. I was invited to spend the night, but after waking up from my wonderful fairytale had no choice but to split. Coming down Ocean Drive just after 2am I couldn’t help but wonder if her roommate in the next bedroom over heard me having my orgasm. I’m not typically that vocal, but the idea of fucking a headless Christina Ricci was enough to make me sing like a canary. She’s got that bangin’ body, but a face that screams down syndrome. Her eyes are too far apart and you could land a fuckin’ jumbo jet on her forehead. She was born to have her noggin’ chopped off.
P.S. I’m well aware Tim Burton didn’t cast Christina Ricci as The Headless Horseman in Sleepy Hollow and whether or not The Headless Horse can actually fly is unknown, but he’s a fucking ghost so let’s just go with it.
