....and they taste like wet toilet paper.

Jacob and I are official. As in, we actually do stuff in the daytime now. It's one thing to have a boyfriend, it's quite another to have somebody that wants to see your shit in the daytime, on the street, in a mall. He would do annnnything for me when he's drunk as fuck, but does he feel the same way sober? The girl with the Bartender sucking her boobs.

However, the world is my oyster, or more precisely the world is a cornucopia filled with aphrodisiac/sexxxytime magical vegetarian oysters that never expire because I am 21 and everybody loves 21yo girls.

Sooooooooo should I feel bad about that time I slept with the gm of xxxxxxxxxx, where by the WAY my fav female chef in all of vancouver is situated, in whistler, for no better reason than I was MODERATELY MOTHAFUCKING DRUNK. This was not even me making shitfaced decisions, I was simply in an emotional upheaval over world and personal events that are so far beyond my control. Whew.

It was amazing by the way.

I don't think I like having sexxxytime with Jacob anymore, maybe I am secretly still in that non slutty phase I was discussing earlier. Maybe his smell repulses me.

Perhaps I AM a hoe-bag and need to come to terms with this verifiable truth before the corrosive consequences of such a state of existing dissolves every good part of my life...

Who knows? Muahahahahah!

At Lolita's by Myself Eating the Fruits of my Sangria

Do I have a gem for you. Two pearls of wisdom gleaned from two wizened and pearly tooth gents at work: Stay meano to keep em keen, and someone always wears the pants, Love is not equal. So I would like to believe that with Jacob I wear the pants in regards to my affinity for the enigmatic and his curiously persistent nature. I don't want to be a dominant figure with Jacob though! he is so perfect and sweet that I would do anytimg for him to be so exquisitely infatuated with life forever. Which is clearly a submissite ideology right? But that makes me want to barf normally? Egads. But yea, no pants for me. I an emotionally incapacitated and clearly suck at debison making. So much so that I have already ripped these gosh forlorn metaphorical dry clean only trousers off, bareing my soul. leaving us to stare at each other awkwardly, both of our privates exposed to the elemental desires of the other. Christian tells me no love is equal though. which is obvious as Jacob's privates are ginormous, and at best I am a half hearted b cup. So what is actually happening between us?

The undisputed cockfaced douchiness of kids with beards and receding hairlines.

Have you ever hated someone before? I have a red hot poker hate on for someone at the moment. Usually, when I've been wronged I zen out and find understanding within myself and generally try and waste as little energy as possible on the offending individual. This time, shit is different. No zen, just rage. You see, tony has really outdone himself this time. He has proven that he is undoubtedly the most disgustingly old and decrepit human being in the entire land, inside and out. He live tweeted that I was defecating in his washroom. Paraphrasing here, but this is what I read as I awoke nonchalently , groggily in his bed, attempting to rouse myself with an invigorating perusal of the ol news feed. Nothing like hearing the girl you just humped taking a dump in your washroom. Jeeesusssss. 2hours ago. For fuck sakes at this point I was stiiiiil under his motherfucking sheets. He is laying, supposedly sleeeeping right beside me. He is absolutely dead meat. I would say my ability to withhold explosives that morning, such as diarreaha, rage, explosive blind rage violence, explosive swearing and cussing out, was a true testament to my innate nature as a cool cucumber. Because in that moment, I did not freak. I lounged, completely at my leisure. Got dressed, made tea, watched robo cop and 30 rock with him. I pretended to be just a rolling heap of good spirits, chuckling at liz lemon and her comparitively maneagble love entanglemnts. I took my time. And then the time came, I put on my jacket, gathered my belongings, carefully tousling my hair in one of his thousands of mirrors. I walk back to the bed, leering over him smiling the most hateful smile I have ever felt sprawled acrossbmy face. I gave his tummy a little tickle and he grinned, and wiggled a hit like a little puppy dog, eyes half closed. In his little boy bliss. And then I punched him in the stomach. I generally do not like hurting people, and the sound of pain he made as I made impact normally would have made me sick. Whimpering and rolling over,alone, in between his sheets he asks why I did that. I zip up my jacket and simply say your fucking facebook. In my usual sing song voice , I call goodbye to him from the front hall and let myself out. Now let us try and understand the actions of this erextile dysfuntion prone, senile old monkeys buttfaced man. ......... ..... Nope. He is an insecure, conniving, passive agreesive sack of damaged goods that needs to alienate himself from every girl he fucks because he is a misogynist fuck that has mummy issues. Back to me. The status was so woefully painful for two reasons. 1) I didn't even poo! I promise! In order to doooo that I need a calm and peaceful environment. Such as MY OWN BATHROOM. 2) annnnnd yes. Facebook. Can facebook be a shit free zone? Pleasaaase. And also old people. Why do I put myself through this, hairy wrinkly old person bodies with mean spirited one dimensional personalities. Barf.

Waterbottles made out of wine bottles

Reasons why you should stay in on thursdays.
- .......

Reasons to use an indoor voice in bed
- your roommate
- your ppartner's roommate
- your partner's parents
- your partner's dog
- the already shattered pysche of the kitty you're babysitting. cat sitting. whateves.
- your fragile vocal chords

Reasons to not work in a kitchen.




Reasons to work in a kitchen
- food. duh.

Reasons to be alive.
- guzzling water from a big house bottle, dancing around like a maniac in your living room. listening to beastie boys........ basically this entire morning..... first peppermint mocha of the season whaaaaat.

Reasons to be alive pt. 2
- new computsies
- showers.

Yea, I called Jacob. and I def gave it up. Now lets turn our discretion voices on and talk about private things.

Pssst.

Hey. You! Over there in the non prescrips and gross aa infinity scarf!
first thhings first. that stache is awful. your mo needs to go! I mean yea, everytime I look at you I basically cum a thousand fluid ounces all over myself and pass out just from how obnoxiously good looking you are.
but for real, i mean real TALK right now..... that shit is scrapey.

second point.... I need to tell you a secret.
PLEASE DO NOT think differently of me.

....Actually, DO! defriend me from fb, judge me, erase that brunch date you pencilled in your date book, discard all of our texts. because I have changed and you may not want to contact me ever again.

I am having non slutty feelings.

as in...... I may have an end goal in life that does not hang delicately on the premise of having a gratified vagina at all times.

as in..... I do not walk down the street eye fucking everysingle stached up super stud that I pass

as in...... I am level headed enough to not want to hang out with douchey boys just to get some.

as in..... I have new standards. I don't know where they came from, who installed them, or much the bill is going to be.

I just know that suddenly, my privates feel like an unexplored cavern that my whore hands are not even good enough for.

When will the sexxing resume?
how much of this cold and unbearable winter do I have to spend unaroused?
will it help if i peruse my little lady porn stash everyday?

.......


WILL MY CLIT FALL OFF FROM UNDERSTIMULATION?

oh gosh, why are my early twenties being so confusing.

Hovember is over it failed annnyways

Which memory should i del first
All of the ones containing the screenshot of THREE OR PERHAPS FOUR I CANT REMEMBER MESSAGES IN A ROW on fb.

or.

all of them.

or.

the one of tonight, In which I desperate texted, sweated, jump noogied everyone and read poetry in east van.

I segmented 50 grapefruits, feed 110 people salad and petite fours, made sweet, sweet, pastry.

I smoked a cigarette, danced like no one was watching. cuz I was on the side of the stage, and no one was.

read counsel by bukowski

Made sweet, sweet love with sssssssssssssssssssssssssss.

chatted

was rejected

Was rejected by a lesbian.

ate mash potatoes

talked to my gma

cut cake

made sorbet

Decided

Asked myself, Why do only late 20s want to occupy my vaaaag, is it because compatibility is based on desperation levels.

Why does ssshshshs look so amazing with super short hair?. Did I leave my lipbalm in his car?

Today is dedicated to fresh sheets and pondering, perhaps quietly listening to the chemical brothers/hana soundtrack as I sit here, flummoxed.

Limbimbo

L

It takes two lameos to have bad sex,
But you can totally get off if YOU'RE awesome, even if your partner is a dead starfish.

I am currently in LimBimbo, that murky area under the semen, between stellar sex never to be had again, and the great unknown bounty of fresh booty. It's where my quest for the Kraken of cock has taken me. It is lonely here.
It's damp and quiet..... I can hear the rolicking waves of other peoples orgasms all around the city.
There is anticipation and fear..... will my next conquest live up to expectation? Can the first intimate sexxy sesh with someone EVER EVEN DREEEAAAAAM of battling the seaworn complexity that is the culmination of a tried and true lover? How do you key down the excitemment and just let it happen, knowing that time ripened fucking in a few weeks will obvs be BETTER, and worth this icky first time business? Will it be icky?

Should I just call Jacob.
.........A. No!


Ps, sick graphic by Duke Riley

ahhhh.... so glad I am finally learning