I was with my girlfriend all summer which was great because she's amazing and wonderful and smart and funny and hot as fuck and I got to do R-rated things to her often.
But now I'm in Seattle, and she's in a galaxy far, far away. And now I'm horny as fuck all the time.
I wake up with wood and I'm fucked from there. I swear, all I think about is sex. I turn on the TV and Ellen is on and I find myself wondering what it'd be like to fuck Ellen DeGeneres.
By 12:30, I'm masturbating to College Football Live.
I go to the gym for two reasons:
1. To get big and strong so girls want to have sex with me and I don't need to masturbate as much.
2. To look at hot girls in spandex so I can masturbate more.
But the only people I'm seeing in spandex are old men and women who have no business wearing spandex and should probably not be out in public. (Not really. That was mean.)
The people at my gym, though, look like they've rolled around in an ugly forest, where they were beaten by ugly sticks and then got makeovers to look even fucking uglier.
It's like depressing. Sort of, I guess. I mean, I go in there and my ugly ass feels pretty good about myself. But then I want to go home and rub one out to the hot girl who used to make bedroom eyes at me, but she's not there and instead there are like 15 people who give you a reverse boner.
Seattle must be the ugliest major city on a coast.
I would probably masturbate to the people who go to my gym.
Bad weekend for Seattle sports. Eeesh.
The Dawgs have a disheartening loss at home to a ranked BYU team, Brandon Morrow loses a no-hitter after 72/3 for the Mariners, then the Seahawks make the Bills look like an early 90s Buffalo team who would go on to a lose a Super Bowl.
In better Seattle news, the sun has shone two days in a row, a September record.
Worse weekend for the AFC's big three contenders.
Jeez, San Diego loses at home on the last play, Indy looks pitiful against a clearly better-than-you-thought Bears squad, and the Patriots, well, Matt Cassel, welcome to the NFL.
The AFC now appears to be wide open.
Our Super Bowl pick after Week 1: Buffalo 27, Atlanta 20.
No, not really. Buffalo and Atlanta fucking suck.
Let's do this instead: Pittsburgh 24, Philadelphia 17.
The movie looks awful -- it's a straight-up romance -- but got us thinking about the Romance genre.
What if basic romance movies were nice romantic stories, but filled with graphic sex scenes? And not like in porn. Beyond that shit. Like fucking obscene. Like you would get to see Diane Lane turned inside out by Richard Gere. That would probably resonate more at the box office.
This paragraph, from a Lozo political post, made me laugh pretty hard:
McCain’s people decided this person, Sarah Palin, should be next in line behind a guy who has absolutely zero shot of living for another eight years. I can’t think of anyone I would draft before McCain in a death pool right now. He maybe makes it through four years. Maybe. But I doubt it.
John McCain would fit in nicely at my gym. I would not masturbate to him. (I don't think, anyway.)