Perhaps I’m a little too irritable to start an audiobook about the connection between obesity and clutter…
Also, I swear it’s a joke — I know we already have QUITE enough bloated, size-queeny, too-fat-to-function patriotism.
Tonight’s presidential debate is brought to you by…
An entire nation getting drunk as fuck.
Cheers, y’all. #GinningUpMyBase
Dear Facebook,
No, “That Guy” and “Unfunny Ginger Comedian” are NOT among the “people I may know” on your site. They ARE among the “people I’ve slept with.” Maybe start a separate suggestion list? But hey, thanks for making me consider all THAT again in the span of 5 minutes.
At least That Guy and I COULD have been friends if things hadn’t gone all stupid. But “learning experience” be damned, the comedian was just an almost impressively bad life choice. The only memorable things about that “relationship” were learning:
A. That it’s possible for a man to appear bored while I’m naked and riding him. (I HOPE I can chalk that up to his seemingly rampant control issues, but maybe I’m just bad at being on top.)
B. About orgasm denial via his goddamn Jedi mastery of the Hitachi Magic Wand.*
No, really. Thanks a pantload, Facebook.
No love,
Smug
* I have no idea what kind of dark sorcery y’all summon to determine when we’re on the verge of orgasm, but damn. I salute you. You’re doing God’s work.
Co-signed, for tonight I shall bathe in movie theater popcorn, telling both my diet and my budget to go fuck themselves.
Via The Oatmeal:
I had a post written about three OkCupid guys fading away on me in one day, boasting about a new personal best. I was “glad the non-feeling was mutual.”
Spoke too soon: Two of them wrote me back today.
Oh. Whoops, sorry, I thought we were done here.
Hm. It might be my turn to fade away, but…one of them is British. Can I, like, bang him then Brexit? I’ve never heard a British guy moan in ecstasy* — maybe there’s an extra “U” in their sex sounds. I should really do my patriotic duty to foster friendly international relations. My vagina would basically be the U.N.
* Yes, he’d be ecstatic. I’d be really, REALLY excited to pleasure someone, and from what I’ve heard, enthusiasm counts for a lot. Not to mention I’m just a delight in bed generally — “Lady in the street” and all. I watch a lotta porn and I take classes about dick. I got this. Gimme.
#cocky #literally
I’m watching Creed, but it’s hard to hear over my copious masturbation whenever I see Michael B. Jordan with his shirt off. I have such a lady boner for my country right now. He probably has patriotism in his pants. UNF — let freedom RING, y’all. 🇺🇸
P.S. Hey, I grew up on that street! Or “shtreet,” I suppose, in keeping with the parlance of my people. #RespectTheJawn #EastCoastSwang
Sometimes you’re in a bad emotional place.
But then your friend who works at the adult boutique texts you to report that a man wearing a Trump t-shirt bought a giant, veiny dildo, and suddenly everything else seems pretty insignificant by comparison.
P.S. If you wondered, the toy IS made in America. Because America’s ALREADY fucking great. (Literally, apparently.)
I feel guilty and shallow about how much it’s changed my life to learn I can pop into a Hair Cuttery at lunchtime, give a nice lady $20, and she will wash my raggedy hair, take the 9 hours necessary to blowdry it all, and make it way prettier than I ever do.
But it IS pretty goddamn delightful. Good work, America. (FUCK, YEAH!)
Via Huffington Post: 7 Incredibly Inventive Names For Masturbation To Use ASAP
Wine? Popcorn? Hand in my pants?
Must be Scandal Thursday!
Smug Singleton 