I put out a personal on craigslist in the ‘casual encounters’ section with the title ‘Looking For Girls to Fart On Me’
In the ad I write ‘I am a 26 year old drug and disease free white man named Stan and I am looking for girls to fart on me, all over my body but mostly my face, while wearing tight spandex pants of any color’.
I specify 18-55 as the preferred age range and say that they must shower before hand and I will return the favor.
My dick gets hard as I type out the ad and midway through writing it I start to shiver uncontrollably and my hands go numb and I start to sweat heavily and this might be an acid flashback so I hurry up and finish the ad off by saying ‘you don’t have to touch my dick if you don’t want to but I will not stop you if you try’ then I put Bensonhurst as my location and submit the ad then I get the cigar box from under my futon and take out a small baggie of coke, an AOL free trial CD, my school MetroCard and the hollowed body of a Bic pen that I’ve cut in half then empty out 2 medium sized rails worth of C onto the AOL case and start fixing them up with the metro card and before I snort the first line I check my email and there’s already like 5 responses to my ad, four of which are probably robots, so I rip the rails then click on the first response.
i cry a lot and feel real bad but then i get real high and smoke a bowl for 3 hours straight while watching the home shopping network and infomercials that make me horny and i masturbate to one of them about brazilian butt lifting but my dick hole burns when i come and it also burns when i pee and then i start feeling like i constantly have to pee but no pee comes out so i stand over the toilet for an hour while every now and then one sad drop of pee comes out and at some point i think i might start peeing blood but i never do so i start crying again then take another shower…
I’m gonna kill myself this time, I swear it. But first I just wanna use the bathroom to pee. And also I’d like to perfectly arrange all the shoes in my closet by size, color and brand just one last time. Then I’m going to kill myself for sure. Although I did want to get caught up on some TV shows. And jerk off. But before I do that I should probably download the newest MomPOV porn clips. OK, so in an hour, after those are done downloading, and 2 minutes after that when I’m done jerking off, I’ll kill myself. I do tend to get hungry after jerking off though. Maybe I’ll get some taco’s first. Although I’ll probably end up overeating again, at which point I’ll be too full to kill myself, so I’ll have to smoke a little pot to soothe my fat bloated stomach. And since I’ll be getting high i might as well start watching those TV shows but half way through watching I’ll probably get horny and have to jerk off again but this time I won’t download any new mompov porn, this way it’ll take probably take closer to 5 minutes to finish instead of the usual 2, and as soon as I’m done doing all that… then I’ll kill myself.
…Although back to back jerk off sessions do seem to make me very tired. Maybe I’ll just go to sleep after. Then when I wake up, that’ll be the perfect time to kill myself. But then it’ll be time for work and my work ethic is so great and I don’t like to let my underappreciative boss down so I guess maybe I’ll just work the day out. Then when I get home I’ll finally kill myself.
But first I’ll probably have to pee again.
the vagina is pulsating and alive as she repeatedly crashes down onto my face, it opens up, smiles then grins its menacing teeth as it drools all over me, taunts me then says in a satanic voice, “you worthless shit, i’m going to eat your dick”
“Good. I want you to.” Its hairs grow, transform into vines that wrap themselves around my neck and they feel like icy fingers, i start to choke, feels good, i want to die, people are watching, laughing, crying, various fluids fly through the air as her fat ass settles down on to my face, crushes the life from me, i hard french kiss her pussy, stick my tongue deep in it, taste the sickly sweet juice inside, i bite her clit very hard and she squeezes my balls in return which makes me bite her harder which makes her squeeze more, an endless pain/pleasure cycle and everything goes black as i lose my vision but then the blackness turns into spirals of neon color, flowers blossom then die, a baby cries, her pussy bites me back and a sitcom laugh track plays loudly as i insert my entire head into her.
third day in a row without sleeping and at 4:30 in the morning i smoke a godfather for dolo then chase a hermit crab through my apartment then i eat a hand full of marijuana seeds and stems and realize it’s the first thing i’ve eaten in two days so i get on delivery.com and order from the diner the following:
- Five Bacon Cheddar Cheeseburgers Mashed Up Into a Giant Ball
- Extra Hamburger Buns With The Insides Scooped Out On Second Thought I Just Want The Scooped Out Parts
- One of Those Classic Anthora NYC Coffee Cups Full Of Pickle Juice
- An Incredible Amount of Mayonnaise, So Much Mayonnaise
- A Filthy Pair of Panties, Dont Care Whomst They Were Worn By
- A Pack of GPC’s or Unfiltered Lucky Strikes
- A Medical Grade Tourniquet
then i realize i probably have to put fucking pants on now and also how i haven’t seen another human being since sunday and actually today is sunday which casts like a giant gloomy shadow of doubt and insanity over everything.
so i do some ketamine.
do too much ketamine
and some time later all i can do is listen to the sound of the delivery mexican banging on the door saying ‘hello hello senor senor’ as i lay paralyzed, drooling on the floor and I try to say ‘help me i can’t move’ i really do but instead end up sounding something more like a piano being gang raped by a deaf r&b singer while going through a meat grinder on the tarmac at jfk.
the table is wooden and wet, smells damp, i sit down with steve and say, “chad, buddy, can i help you out with some of these lines?”
he doesn’t look at me when he responds, “its ketamine, overcooked, cut with molly, coke and fentanyl. i made it all myself, sept for the coke and fentanyl.” he pushes the aol free trial cd case towards me, “wanna go first?”
“uhm, you go first.” just in case it’s poison and he dies.
“that’s a nice thought.”
“fuck you, stay out of my mind. and at least i’m being honest with you, which is actually more rare than me caring if you die or not, so yea, you’re right, it is a nice thought.”
stan doesn’t seem to give a shit and blasts down two lines before i even finish talking and i watch him carefully for any signs of overdose. he grunts a couple times, low and guttural, then exhales deep. his eyes roll up, neck muscles give out and his head falls from side to side like a infant as his eyes completely vanish into thin air. his head falls back, almost snaps completely off, and my gut instinct is that he’s dead. i put my finger under his nose to see if i can feel for air, which i do, faintly. steve is wearing a black t shirt, so old and worn that it almost looks grey. i pick up his t shirt, exposing defined abs and chest. my dick starts getting hard. his chest rises and falls with air. i put his shirt down and gently flick him in the dick with my finger. he reacts only slightly and makes a jumble of animal noises.
he seems to be alive. “wellp, good enough for me”.
white hot heat of drug excitement hits my body and i start to sweat profusely so i take off my shirt and throw it away.
human moans fill the dungeon along with sounds of slurping, popping, slapping. it smells like shit, ass, burning plastic, rotten potato stench of dried semen, dirty yeast infected pussy. the lights, almost non-existent, flicker and buzz.
“lets fucking do this,” i say to everyone, no one then take the rolled up dollar bill still clutched in chad’s clammy cold hand, re-roll it tight, and watch a girl across the room, chubby, white, with rashes all over her ass and inner thigh area, as she fucks herself with a large crucifix while bent over doggy. she turns around and we make eye contact but relay absolutely no emotion to each other then i rip down the remaining 10 lines of staves magical medicine.
I walk in slow motion through a dreary basement dungeon past a man hanging in a harness while 3 or 4 people take turns fisting his asshole. Past a woman crucified on a giant wooden X, tied in place by her wrists and ankles by leather straps, a plastic KeyFood bag tied over her head, she gasps for air in ecstasy as two other women leather clad in replica SS Officer uniforms slash her small sweaty tits with medical grade scalpels. Past two men making out naked, covered in blood, using the thick red liquid to jerk each other off. Past a filthy mattress with a naked sleeping pregnant woman with the word ‘fuckslut’ written on her huge pregnant stomach in red lipstick. Still walking in slo-mo, the ketamine more or less starting to wear off, I moonwalk over to a small circular table where sits a familiar face: Stan. Or Steve? is cutting up lines of some pink powder, his sweat pants freshly wet with unknown body fluids.
“What’s up Stan, Steve, whatever the fuck your name is”
He continues cutting up lines, a dozen of them in 2 rows of 6, they are perfect, symmetrical, identical, on top of an old AOL free trial CD case, and he stares at the lines, transfixed, then says, flat and emotionless, “my names Chad”