So things with Superman are going very well, well enough that I've reached a decision. We all have fuck buddies, or as Chocolate Snatch calls them distractions. These are the people that fill your sexual needs during droughts of actual relationships, like renter's insurance for your penis. But now I'm making an investment in a stable relationship, to continue the metaphor I'll call myself a first time home owner. It's nice and though it may need a little work it's still yours.
It's come that time that I've moved in and it's time to forget my renting days. I'm sure I've lost you all by now but the jist is it's time for me to delete my fuck buddy's numbers from my phone and life. I think if I'm willing to put my all into it I shouldn't have an escape route planned out. Whether Fritas knows or not, she asked me if I wanted to make this work and what I would do to keep it that way. When I realized offing Twinkie was not even a remote problem I realized it was that time.
So this is a farewell to all of the men that made my 30 day project, my "distractions," and a few good friends that just made some drunken decisions with me (actually these I'll keep, as they were not even friends with benefits). It doesn't count if the hangover outshines the sex, plus we actually have conversations. I will let you know among these are Johnny Angel and Big, and if you think it's a bad decision TOUGH SHIT.
So here's to my promise to put my all into a great thing I have going. Here's to Fritas who (unknowingly) gave me the push. And lastly, to the many great fucks I've had so many year through. May you all find a new cock to sit on.
**
Come to think of it Johnny Angel has met Superman too. It was while we were dating previously and he came down for some such reason and met me a Waffle House. They only met in passing though thank Allah. Life really is a Shannon Doherty sized bitch. Love her.
Bradley James
PS. Ask some friends to read my blog since you are sitting there at your desk while I do the footwork. I'll keep posting if you keep reading
Eurovision 2020
4 years ago
1 comment:
Ahhh...distractions. We have such a love/hate relationship. My cooch loves them, my heart hates them, and my head gets a headache from doing the math (wait...there's fractions??? Don't tell me I have to DIVIDE now!!!). I need to find Cowtown's equivalent of "The Red Door" so I can get a motorized distraction with no strings attached. I'm pretty sure plastic can't get man-boobs. Schwing!!!!
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