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?”
“It’s toxiiiiiiiiiic.”
“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.


i like to make lawnmower sounds when i cum.
or like motorcycle noises, vrrrrrrooom.
or like a leaky radiator, hisssssssssssss.
or a self-oscillating lawn sprinkler, tk tk tk tk.
immediately after i cum i start to cry, which usually freaks out the prostitute.
one time i fucked a crack whore in the ass for five dollars and she smelled like burnt plastic which i knew was how crack smelled when you smoked it.
i knew this because when i was 6 my dad kidnapped me and when i was found 6 days later i was in a van parked on brighton ave with 6 grown men inside who were all smoking crack and all hailed from the mean streets of coastal ukraine.

the good news is i no longer have testicular pain immediately following orgasm. the bad news is im going to kill myself tonight. ill do it by jumping out of the window. I live on the sixth floor so it should be high enough to do the trick. on second thought, maybe ill go up to the roof and jump from there just to make sure because when i do something i really do it. when i die, i really wanna die. i wanna die until death. until all the facebook death announcements have been made and an acceptable amount of sad emojis have been conveyed.