In an effort to clear my mind a bit from the recent death of my dog, I have thrown myself into a variety of awkward distractions.
I attempted to have a very nice date with a very nice girl. She was foxy as hell and had an ass that made you jerk your head fast as fuck to the right and think to yourself “WTF is this shit?”. The tiniest creature with a booty like a shelf, and I couldn’t stop staring in mild shock. Because she was so slight, I spent a large amount of the time we spent together wondering where this ass actually came from. I do indeed enjoy body parts that are kind of disproportionately shocking. I once was in love with a with a short girl with oddly large hands and feet. She was very self-conscious about her lovely hands and would often complain to me about how much she hated them. I would reassure her that her hands were beautiful, and then stare at them with the worlds most massive boner. And by massive, I mean in comparison to a baby carrot cut in half. And perchance that half would also be halved, if you wanna be a dick about it. When I find someone with a mouth full of crooked, fucked up teeth, a gigantic ass and possibly one leg substantially longer than the other, I’m throwing in the towel and getting hitched.
But back to the almost nice date. Even though she was a sweetheart and a great conversationalist, our time together was quickly tainted by the perversions of a deaf bull terrier. He is a very sweet, cuddly creature that I am currently dog sitting, and we have become the best of friends already. But after a few days of our new bestfriendship, I realized that he also happened to have a slight humping issue. Slight is a bit of an under-exaggeration. The awkward reality is that my bff is obsessed with trying to have sex with me. And don’t try to cesar milan my ass into thinking it’s a dominance thing. Bullshit. I see the lust in his eyes every time he watches me get dressed. His lip curls everytime I smile at him. This dog wants me. I’ve started going into the bathroom just to put sun block on, for fear he may see my glistening, lotioned up scar-nips and become overly excited. So after mildly asking him to please stop riding my leg and trying to crawl up my dates shirt for about 30 minutes, I finally remembered that he had arrived with a spray bottle. Worked like a charm! For about ten seconds.
Once I grew accustomed(stockholm) to a large beefcakey dog velcroed to my pants leg, I then put my focus into impressing my date with my superior eating contest skills. I was born to ingest copious quantities of food in lightning speed time. I really should travel around the world entering myself in eating contests, but I’m too busy swallowing without chewing to get around to it. I laid in my bed and chomped ever so casually an entire box of Captain Crunch while we watched videos on youtube. I used my right pec as a table top for my bowl, and my left pec as a pillow for her head. She kept making tiny hints that she wanted to share my cereal, but I was unable to understand them. Her hints, btw, involved actually saying that she wanted a bite and gesturing with an open mouth. I was very hungry.
The next night I decided to be mellow and just go to a short performance to take my mind off things. I did my usual routine and got cracked out on black coffee and went to this show alone, as I prefer to do. That is when I can actually tear myself away from my hermits den and pretend I’m a semi normal human being. Some people wouldn’t be caught dead going to a dance club or a party by themselves. I am the exact opposite. I can think of maybe four people out of a shit ton of friends that I would go to a party with, and those four are so thankfully RUDE that they couldn’t care less what I do at said party. Flying solo allows me the option to flit about all night long without being obligated to check in with people throughout the night. And to real talk, going alone also allows me the much more frequently used opportunity to ditch out at a moments notice. I love a good old fashioned slip away. Without even so much as a faretheewell, I often discreetly dance myself right out of a club and back into my dark cavern of too-much ice cream and reality tv.
Said performance turned out to be a live sex show, and I soon was lost in the abyss of filth. Admittedly, with a name like “Cum And Glitter”, I was pretty well aware that gay sluttery would somehow be involved. And no matter how tired I am, that sort of entertainment rarely ceases to be interesting for me. I lip-flapped to my porn wife Courtney Trouble while scoping out the the crowd, which was an intriguing mix of hotshit porn babes, old-school fetishists and weird straight dudes in renassaince outfits hoping to find their inner sex nerd. I liked it. Once the show started and the few people I knew settled in to work their assorted jobs, I snuck awkwardly backstage to see if I could get in the way somehow. Several of my pals were already busying themselves with pouring fancy made up drinks for the patrons. And regardless of the fact that they obviously had it covered, I decided that I was somehow useful to them. I deemed my sober ass “head bartender” and haphazardly filled cups with cheap champagne while shouting orders to nobody listening. I was later rewarded for all my unnecessary work with a pair of mystery panties that now lie quietly on my nightstand in hopes of creeping someone nice out.
A cute acquaintance of mine came up to me and offered to drink my piss out of a glass. And no, we were not in the bathroom, and no, my pants were not down. I immediately felt extremely special and attractive, like my pee must be so amazing that people would just randomly look at me and desire it. But then I observed that she was drinking something suspiciously yellow out of a glass. Knowing that we were not currently serving lemonade, I quickly realized what it was. Not only was she guzzling somebody elses god damn piss, but the also-cute piss giver was drinking her own glass of it as well. It’s a very interesting sight to see someone sip their own urine ever so casually out of a plastic cup. Again, I like it. But I no longer felt special. My urethra was just one of many urethras to be added to her collection of urethras. Heartbreaking. Not that I’m even into pee fun. In fact I’m completely indifferent to any bodily fluids besides ejaculate (do not spit on me, I will be annoyed). Although I will say I did once yank my most likely tattered briefs to the side and urinate all over my ex girlfriends bed just to shock her. After I marked her bed that day, we started randomly peeing on one another to torment/crack each other up.
But back to the show. I FLUFFED someone for my very first time! A fluffer is somebody that gets the performer turned on before they have sex. When requested as a fluff, I excitedly made my way over to where the performer was. I had never fluffed anyone before, and I felt as if this was a brand new role for me. It was like I was born to fluff. I imagined to myself that the stars aligned when I was born, and spelled out the word “Transsexual Fluffer Dude” across a creeped-out moonlit sky. I almost wanted to add that title to my resume but then thought better of it when I remembered that the companies I tend to work for would most likely not be amused. I would like to say to non-porn people that this is not typical, and queers do not get fluffers, we are lucky if we get a god damn fruit plate. But since I was born to fluff I happily obliged anyway. She laid herself down on a massive pile of colorful costume clothing and beckoned for me to come closer. Because I am a slutbag that is respectful of those that prefer safe sex, I had handy a wad of black latex gloves in my back pocket, and quickly snapped one on and we began our fancy fluffy finger session(that phrase just grossed me out). It was a very short, anti-climactic fluff. I’m surprisingly shy and awkward as hell and there were people milling about that were being less fancy and not getting fluffed. I’m not even sure she even needed one anyway, as her role in the performance was to ram a strap-on into a guys asshole. But I won’t complain, as I finally learned of my lifes destiny. Also, we maybe just wanted to fool around backstage for a minute, and she just referred to it as fluffing so we had a good excuse.
In the week since my girl has passed I have eaten total of twenty-two late night pancakes and one order of chilli fries (I only regret the chilli). I allowed a deaf bull terrier to molest myself, a date and at least several friends while half-heartedly whispering “no, stop, bad dog” and spraying him with a water bottle. I have fluffed and almost peed in a cup. I have had fun times, and I have sobbed hysterically while listening to the same god damn Adele song on repeat. But mostly I have spent my free time being a sad boy and writing about intense shit. I have decided to write a book, so have been really digging into my past as of late, and it’s been really emotional for me. Which is obviously not in this ADD inspired blog. I am lucky that if I want some distractions, this city has a million to be had. Be it fun, enlightening, fucked up or just weird. Sometimes I just need to leave my mind for a bit and lose myself to the land of strange entertainment. And if I don’t need an escape, I can sit in front of my laptop at 3 am like a creep and post a video of a dog molesting me.