Fans, last night I went bonkers on my other blog. I was filled with misery and it's still simmering in my brain like a pot of spaghetti. I know it will be okay if I continue my vent over here.
When I meet a young woman online, I immediately add forty years to her age, and then I imagine that she is hot for me. Since I started blogging, I've been fantasizing about screwing a little old lady.
I asked my therapist about it.
ME: I keep having fantasies about little old ladies, and I don't even know any.
Therapist: Do you write about these fantasies on your blogs?
ME: All the time.
Therapist: Why do you feel the urge to blog about it? Readers know you have a c**k, Tarquin. You don't need to remind them.
ME: What? I HATE women! The little old ladies who I make up in my head, I just want to cuddle. I think.
Therapist: There's only one therapy that will take care of that.
When I meet a young woman online, I immediately add forty years to her age, and then I imagine that she is hot for me. Since I started blogging, I've been fantasizing about screwing a little old lady.
I asked my therapist about it.
ME: I keep having fantasies about little old ladies, and I don't even know any.
Therapist: Do you write about these fantasies on your blogs?
ME: All the time.
Therapist: Why do you feel the urge to blog about it? Readers know you have a c**k, Tarquin. You don't need to remind them.
ME: What? I HATE women! The little old ladies who I make up in my head, I just want to cuddle. I think.
Therapist: There's only one therapy that will take care of that.
Asshole.
