Essays on Go, Team Internet!
I think this is an amazing dance routine.
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Reading this elsewhere amused me.
So the other day I heard a commercial say, 'Girls and women are under more pressure than ever to be skinny!'
I said out loud, 'Then why are more of them fat?'
I think half the people that heard me thought I was a horrible evil male and the other half were thinking, 'Yeah, why is that?'
all subcultures are lame. . .
think about it
you start out
there's like six of you
and you're all against "elitism" and "conformity"
and you turn some more people on to it
and what do you become after a year or less??
ELITIST CONFORMISTS!!!
A treatment for my upcoming TV show. PLEASE, don't steal my idea
So, in this age of classless TELEVISION, I have been thinking of shopping a show that I want to call HOMEWRECKER, COLD FEET or FALTER AT THE ALTAR.
I got the idea while looking though a buddy's registry. I saw you could input anyone's name so of course I had to enter my old flames in there.
I then thought of this show where I get a girl or guy to do the same thing and they buy the old love and the new spouse a gift but enclose a card saying something lke, "I fucked 'em first" or "He got a small cock" or something. More points if they incluse a picture of what they're referencing.
The seoncd part of the show would document the gift opening and resultant bahaviors.
Economic Turmoil
All the managers and HR people are meeting right now. It was announced yesterday that 6000 people will be laid off. I am ready for this. I am to the point I wish it would just happen.
Occasionally, pop music can be REALLY REALLY good.
I feel really bad cos this poor girl is still a NOBODY, despite releasing an album that was EXCELLENT in terms of American Pop music. Plus she is v v pretty.
Overdue
Wow.
I just had my counseling intake interview. It's supposed
to be simple: answer direct questions about my academic program, school
ID number, therapeutic history, history of medication, history of
depression, anxiety, eating disorders, gender or age preference of
therapist, and ... presenting problems.
"Presenting problems?"
No
sweat. I'm fine with my medication and I believe it's effective, but I
don't like relying on it and I don't like putting chemicals in my body
for such an extended period of time. I worry about what I'll do if I
decide to become pregnant or something. Also I still get nightmares
about my ex, but they're becoming less frequent.
"Can you tell me more about that?"
Ok,
sure. I went through a horrible breakup a little less than a year ago
and I still don't know why, because he cut off all contact with me and
still refuses to communicate. None of my questions have been answered,
and I was getting long, vivid nightmares about 3-4 times a week about
him. They're more like once or twice a month now, but I believe this
confusion I still have is interfering with my ability to handle new
relationships. [pause] Uh, I think that's the shortest version of that
story I have ever given.
"Yeah, that was pretty good. I can imagine it's a lot more complicated than that."
He
continued, I started crying uncontrollably, doing my best to answer
much simpler questions and scheduling an appointment. He asked if I was
okay, I told him I just haven't talked about that with anyone in a
while. It was weird. It felt weird. I'm long, long, long overdue for
therapy about this problem. I guess I was finally admitting that I
couldn't fix it on my own, as I've been able to do with so many other
things over the past several years. Guh.
So I have an appointment with a real live therapist on Thursday! And it's free!
Rant! Warning!
I just started a new job at a fancy restaurant, and by fancy I mean that the bill for two people is at least 50 bucks, without tip. So it's a nice place, lots of rich people, and also preppy/ frat guys working there. I wasn't sure exactly how I would fit in, but I ended up making a few friends with other bussers and some of the kitchen staff (they've got the best stories, like this one time they dressed up as business men and walked into a McDonalds and got them to give them lots of their business information, anyway). So one busser, Jake, invited me out to his country club last weekend. I had nothing to do, and I thought maybe a round of golf would be fun, so I went.
Two other guys came with us, Brett and John, more typical frat guys. I thought I wasn't gonna have fun, but luckily Jake was a good conversationalist, so they were at least tolerable. Brett talked about scoring with chicks the previous night, John agreed and complimented him, showing his follower status. When we got to the first hole, Jake went first, hitting the ball smooth and clean and straight. Then the other two went, and then I went. I did the worst since I hadn't played gold since highschool.
We played about halfway through before I lost my ball in the woods. When I went to go looking for it, I asked myself if I was seriously having fun with these guys. I was tempted to just ditch them and go home, or maybe think of an excuse. I finally found my ball when I heard this strange sound, like a dull, air pressure sound, like popping open a metal can of peanuts or something. I looked around and saw this chick playing tennis alone. The sound was coming from the automatic serving machine. I went closer to get a better look at her. She was pretty hot. She had hair pulled back in a pony tail, brunette, a white top and a tennis skirt. Whenever she turned quick the skirt would move with her circular direction and bundle up and then fall back out as it straightened. I just had to keep watching it. She had pretty big boobs too.
Eventually she hit a ball way over the fence accidentaly and it landed near me. She faced me and let her arm and racket dangle to her side.
"Hey there!" she yelled.
"Hi."
"Mind if you give me my ball back?"
The serving machine was still going, obvlivious to anything but what it was made for. Pthum, pthum, pthum.
"Yeah, sure," I said. I went and picked it up and walked through the door shaped hole in the chain fence. I handed her the ball and noticed the pile of balls that was collecting behind her.
"Thanks," she said. "What were you doing way out in the woods over there?"
"I was playing golf with my buddies and I sliced hard, lost my ball."
"And then you found mine," she said, and her lips curled into a smile, then we both laughed.
I introduced myself and got her name too, Des. Didn't ask what it was short for. We chit chatted a bit, obviously flirting. She kept hitting me in the stomach with her racquet, then I eventually tried to grab it from her. We both locked eyes and playfully tried to force it from each other, my hands over hers. We talked some more. She asked if I had to go back to playing golf, I said my buddies could finish the game without me.
By then the machine had run out of balls to shoot. You could hear the moment when a ball should have been loaded, but instead you heard an empty, hollow sound. We both looked at it and then back at each other and thought the exact same thing. There was a slight breeze that came and a strand of her hair was over her face. She had a serious, almost sad look all of a sudden. I leaned in and kissed her. She dropped her racquet as we started to make out. Then she said, "Not here, I know someplace better."
The sun was really beating down by then, it was mid-afternoon. We walked by the lounging area and then the swimming pool. Des said she used to be a lifeguard there and now has a free year long membership, otherwise she couldn't afford to join a place like this. Good, I thought, she's no yuppie. She was leading me to the storage room for the pool supplies. I was getting really excited and anxious, fire in my stomach, my legs were feeling weak, heart pounding. She led me and then grabbed my hands from behind her. I was about to scream to lead me to the pot of gold, but I didn't want to ruin the intensity and feeling of the moment, though that woulda been pretty funny.
As soon as we got in and shut the door, she pounced me. Heavy making out, barely able to breath. I took off my shirt first. I felt her boobs and just stared into her eyes, and she put her hands on mine and spread her fingers and scrapped her nails out over my hands. I really like it when girls are affectionate like that, I wish all girls would be that affectionate. I took off her top and sports bra and went at it. She did a funny thing and started sucking MY nipples, which I thought was weird, but I was too passionate to really care.
We went further along, further and further, I kept wondering how much further we were gonna go. Eventually we went all the way. Then suddenly there was a knock on the door. She screamed oh shit and covered her mouth. I ran and turned off the light and then, remembering where she was, grabbed her and hid behind some boxes. The door opened, it was a member asking for directions, thinking he had seen someone come in there. He gave up and left. We both sighed, and decided to continue again, lights off this time. There was a small window near the ceiling which gave a little light, but for the most part it was dark.
We had been going at it for like 30 minutes when I decided I was about ready to finish. Curiously, I noticed a box that was open beside my foot. It had a bunch of packets of shock treatments for the pool, the stuff to balance ph, and one bag was open. I bent down and grabbed it, then went back at it. She didn't notice I had anything in my hand. I remembered that I didn't say my other joke before, and I like to test girls to see if they like a weird sense of humor, so I know we'd get along down the line. Without thinking, I poured it all over my dick and shoved it into her and kept pounding away. Then I poured it all over her coochie coo basically. There was no affect at first, then suddenly we heard fizzing.
"What the fuck is that?" she asked.
"I dunno."
"Oh god why does it feel like that, did you come?"
"No not yet."
"What the hell?"
I told her it was nothing and kept going, emptying the whole packet inside of her. I faked a moan and told her I was done. I turned on the light and she started screaming. Her whole vagina was foaming and dripping white shit everywhere, and her upper thighs and stomach were scorching red. I busted out laughing. She was crying and obviously very confused, I told her Turkish semen was very potent. She poked at the area and something exploded and sent white stuff spurting. Some got in her eyes and made her cry harder. Then she noticed the empty packet and made the connections. She barely had time to say anything before I was out the door and heading back to my buddies. I gave myself a high five.
Actually now that I think about it, I didn't even get her number. What was the point of this thread again?
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