work was stressful and i want to blow off some steam so when i get home i start trolling various prostitutes on craigslist and eroticreview with impossible requests like asking them if they can accommodate a giant dildo shaped like a horse cock or if any of them were okay with first breaking into then having sex at the old soviet preschool i attended from the age of 4 to 6 where the teachers would beat the shit out of me and refuse to give me my anemia medicine and pull my hair out when i made fun of their stupid russian accents. on the phone one mexican whore named maria said she could accommodate the horse dildo but hung up on me when i asked her if she was interested in purchasing the one i owned instead then i jerked off to a porn clip of a girl actually taking a horse dildo into her ass and i didn’t get off on it because of the horse cock, i got off on it because she was really good at pretending like she enjoyed it. the orgasm was decent despite jerking off 17 times yesterday and not drinking any fluids for the past 3 days.
“Well, the results of the endoscopy are in… and those results… coupled with my findings while performing your physical examination… well… it doesn’t look too good… looks like you have stomach cancer. As a matter of fact, according to the endoscopy, it’s a very rare, advanced type of stomach cancer… You’re quite a lucky boy! But I see you don’t have any health insurance, how were you planning on paying for this visit? You know what? On second thought, empty your pockets right now, I know you can’t afford this shit, hands against the fucking wall!”
Doctor Soetoro bends me over and starts frisking but jokes on him, all he’s gonna find on me is:
- a condom that I poked holes in with a needle
- the dirty needle I used to do it
- 5 Canadian Nickels
- my state mandated Gender Affiliation, Race, Highest Level of Education Achieved and Socioeconomic Status ID / EBT Card / GPS Tracker / Government Controlled Explosive Device
- one half eaten ration packet consisting of State Approved Non-Flavored Nutritional Mush
“Uhhh, gee, I dunno doc, ya take cash? I mean Euros? Shekels? Bitcoin? Pounds of flax? Can you bill me for it? Will I die soon? Am I treatable? Do I want to be treatable? Is there will be chemo? Why is you touching me down there? Are you my uncle too?”
He reaches into my pocket and ‘accidentally’ touches my dick, “oh my, doctor!”
He fishes out the nickels and while counting them says, “I’m not an oncologist so I can’t say,” then he shoves his fist into my other pocket, “but I will say this though, judging by its size,” he grabs my dick again, “it’s definitely inoperable.”
“Are you talking about the cancer now or my dick?” Wink wink.
“Stop it you idiot. I would just put yourself down, with chemo you might add a couple months to your life but you won’t save it, are you prepared to spend tens of thousands of dollars on something as trivial as your life?”
He takes my pants and underwear off.
“Gee, I guess when you put it that way…”
She insisted they watch old TRL reruns while they fucked and three times he caught her mouthing along to an Usher video when she should have at least been pretending to enjoy the sex. Regret overtook him the moment he came on her chest, which was when he noticed the one long curly hair growing from between her tits.
“Post coital regret,” he sigh whispered as he climbed off her.
She rolled over onto her stomach and steam rose off of her sweaty ass, “Oh, this my favorite Britney video, turn it up.”
Still panting, “This is as loud as it’s going to get, it’s 3 in the morning, my neighbors a fucking psycho bitch and I’m not about to give her a good reason to start knocking on my fucking wall.”
The TV’s power over her was unflinching as she stared hypnotically at Britney dancing.
“I feel worse right now than I did last week at the Chinese rub and tug. The mamasan that jerked me off had to be at least 55 and her teeth, well the ones that hadn’t fallen out, were yellow as fuck. Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Get the fuck out of my house right now.”
She put up a light struggle but he managed to get her out by throwing a squeaky toy outside of his front door, which she gladly chased.
He spent the rest of the morning having a dead eyed breakfast then staring at himself in the mirror for twenty minutes in silence while thinking about how hard it was to find a normal girl in the big city.
At 1:11 in the morning I browse explicit gore websites and only click on posts showing dead girls. The first post is a set of crime scene photos of a Thai girl who hung herself in a garage. She is wearing a short black dress and one of her shoes has fallen off and for some reason her eyes are censored out as her feet rest on a red metal stool. She is suspended in air, one end of a belt tied to a pipe in the ceiling, the other end around her neck. She has drool coming out of her mouth. The belt she hung herself with was leopard patterned and she is definitely fuckable. Down in the comments section people are talking about how she was lucky not to have shit herself. One guy insists that it’s still possible that she did shit herself, despite the lack of visual evidence in the pictures. He says maybe she was wearing really tight underwear, so tight in fact, that not even shit could leak out. I’m not too sure about the validity of his theory but it’s a comforting thought nonetheless.