Wednesday, February 22, 2012

On A Date: A Dork

The lenses of her glasses were speckled with filth and her clothing was ill fitting, but she was so grateful for my attention that my generic carnality swelled to a purposeful and benevolent lust. It is a tempting gamble to reach into the bubbling nerves of a dorky girl and pluck out her heart... I would be happy to fill the lofty roles of her re-hashed and wholly theoretical sexual fantasies.

The content of her room could soften even the most rigid erection. Posters for bad movies, ugly bed sheets, a lingering smell of Taco Bell. When she was stripped below me I examined her hairy, ape-like arms, her chewed fingernails, and choking pores. I felt Christ-like as I entered her unkempt hole, and I understood the honest roots of the "pity fuck," the saintliness of pleasuring the leper whose eyes still twinkle and wantonly roam.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

E-Mail from Ex-Girlfriend: Friend's Marriage

From: Becca Bauer
To: Isaac Coin
Date: Sunday, Feb 19, 2012 at 11:54 PM
Subject: sophies dumb wedding

Just got back from Sophie's wedding and everyone there was SUCH A TOOL. Her husband is some Jew and the priest told a obnoxious story about how they met on J date and both like pad Thai, like that even means anything. So lame! Im so disappointed in her. She lost so much weight for the wedding and looked INCREDIBLE in her dress. Hope her geek husband is worth it. And as usual, disgusting bridesmaid dresses made of synthetic material that made me sweat under my boobs. blah.
Do you remember Sophie? 

Do you think I'm "unmarriable?" 
Were you and I the perfect match?

Monday, February 20, 2012

Perfect Woman: Kim Morgan

Pretty faced darling, prove yourself to us and do it endlessly. She is god to they in ill-fitting blue jeans and faded black t-shirt, misting their own sallow bodies with halitosis, and all squirming beneath large buttered popcorns wishing they were the professor and she their pet.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Self Improvement: Fingernails

How I hate tending to my nails. Ten vulgar crusts, which yellow and stretch, only to canker and curl into rattling whisks weighted by fungal inlay. When at my meal, I curl my hands into fists, lest my stomach rebel at the sight of them. Were a mosquito bite to pulse and twitch on the filet of my calf, I would not raise a nail to scratch it- instead, I would do well to bear it, in the evolved sanctum of meditation and restraint.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

On a Date: "Fucking" and "Being Fucked"

I admire a girl with sexual tenacity. She mounted me like a bandit mounts a horse in a western movie, slamming her ass into the saddle of my pelvis and reaching back for my dick as if it were some trail-worn strap that needed tightening. The emasculation came not from her confidence but from my own doubts as to my ability to out do her.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

E-Mail from Ex-Girlfriend: Urinal Envy

From: Becca Bauer
To: Isaac Coin
Date: Sat, Feb 11, 2012 at 10:54 AM
Subject: Hey Isaac

I thought of you last night. You know how you were always saying how we girls will never get to experience the power of the urinal? Well last night I was at edendale and stumbled into the boys bathroom- just being cheeky I guess... don't worry about it. And then I saw them... lined up in all of their porcelain (sp?) glory. There didn't happen to be anyone else in there so I literally straddled one of them, bent in a very very awkward, compromising pose and actually urinated in a urinal!
Had someone walked in he definitely would have seen more than he would've been ready for. But I was really drunk and determined to get the urinal experience. Lol.
I kinda peed on my leg in the process.
Do you guys ever trickle down the leg? Maybe after the shake? Ever a stream that goes rogue?

Miss u

Monday, January 23, 2012

Perfect Woman: Xiaxue

Is there anywhere on your body where my touch will not bruise you, dear? As my fingers take steps to cross you, they leave runs in the nylons of your skin. Raspberry syrup will pool beneath these bruises, and I shall ease my sallow lips across your kneaded candy flesh, and beneath my suction your skin will swell, thinning to a clear bubble, and finally bursting forth in a giggling stream. What of your body which lays in an empty pile? Shall I pick it up with the end of a stick? 

This was all figurative, of course...