Tear Jerker A Valentine's Fuck Up.
OK so I got the old lady some flowers and a ballon with a frog on it which read, "I'm Toadally Yours" for Valentine's Day.
Cute enough huh?
She was mad 'cause I didn't give her a card. I don't know I can do flowers, and candy, but I have a really hard time paying that much for a card with some smart ass' idea of witty humor on it, with Hallmark stamped on the back.
Commercialism bothers me sometimes. Consumerism bothers me sometimes. Capitalism bothers me sometimes.
So I used my twisted sense of humor for good, for once, and wrote a really faggy love poem. She's gonna gush over this one, which isn't such a good thing since sex with the old lady is starting to wear on me. She wants it all the time. She thinks I'm some manner of love god.
Sex is why I wrote the poem. Last night I was fucking her and couldn't cum because she is old and fat. Of course when the relationship started I covered myself by saying, "I have intimacy issues, sometime I can't cum". Unfortunately the old lady asks alot of questions, and is on to me. 'Did you masturbate today'? "Ummm...Yes, yes I did". 'Were you watching porn'? "...?...Yes...of course".
The truth was I'd wacked it a couple of times during the day following our morning love session in which I splooged everywhere because I hadn't whacked it to porn in a while, but I didn't get into that.
She said some crap about wanting me to stop jacking off to porn. I was hurt and responded,
"I am the man you fell in love with. Why are you trying to change me"?
She said it is perverse, which is totally gay.
Speaking of gay when she stormed off all naked and pissed off I was able to woo her back to bed with the utterance, "DON'T BE GAY". Of course she came back saying, "what the hell is that supposed to MEAN"? Then I started giving her kisses and staring into her eyes as if it was foggy out and I saw something I couldn't quite make out.
She says we have such deep connection, oh fooey.
Even worse she thinks we've met one another in a prior existence. Weird reincarnation talk. What kind of Isis and Osiris crap is this?
Even weirder was Valentine's Day night when her daughter was having a funeral for one of her stuffed animals. I asked the old lady's daughter if she wanted me to bury the plush play friend in the backyard like I did her missing frog, or if she was going to cremate it in the garbage disposal.
The old lady was seriously concerned, "she's never done this before. They've had weddings, and birthday parties, but never funerals. Some part of her is dead and I have to figure out what part that is". She always tries to find deeper meaning in everything. It's really stupid, though fun to play with.
Of course I interjected, "maybe it's just a spoiled brat screeming for attention". She responded, 'that could be it'. "Of course it is, now let's get back to cooking".
Oh yeah that was the other thing she was pissed off about. She wanted me to cook since I didn't even attempt to make Valentine's reservations for her. I ended up just kind of standing around, while she made all sorts of good stuff. It was for the best, I really don't like to cook anyway.
It's hard to make love work.
Cute enough huh?
She was mad 'cause I didn't give her a card. I don't know I can do flowers, and candy, but I have a really hard time paying that much for a card with some smart ass' idea of witty humor on it, with Hallmark stamped on the back.
Commercialism bothers me sometimes. Consumerism bothers me sometimes. Capitalism bothers me sometimes.
So I used my twisted sense of humor for good, for once, and wrote a really faggy love poem. She's gonna gush over this one, which isn't such a good thing since sex with the old lady is starting to wear on me. She wants it all the time. She thinks I'm some manner of love god.
Sex is why I wrote the poem. Last night I was fucking her and couldn't cum because she is old and fat. Of course when the relationship started I covered myself by saying, "I have intimacy issues, sometime I can't cum". Unfortunately the old lady asks alot of questions, and is on to me. 'Did you masturbate today'? "Ummm...Yes, yes I did". 'Were you watching porn'? "...?...Yes...of course".
The truth was I'd wacked it a couple of times during the day following our morning love session in which I splooged everywhere because I hadn't whacked it to porn in a while, but I didn't get into that.
She said some crap about wanting me to stop jacking off to porn. I was hurt and responded,
"I am the man you fell in love with. Why are you trying to change me"?
She said it is perverse, which is totally gay.
Speaking of gay when she stormed off all naked and pissed off I was able to woo her back to bed with the utterance, "DON'T BE GAY". Of course she came back saying, "what the hell is that supposed to MEAN"? Then I started giving her kisses and staring into her eyes as if it was foggy out and I saw something I couldn't quite make out.
She says we have such deep connection, oh fooey.
Even worse she thinks we've met one another in a prior existence. Weird reincarnation talk. What kind of Isis and Osiris crap is this?
Even weirder was Valentine's Day night when her daughter was having a funeral for one of her stuffed animals. I asked the old lady's daughter if she wanted me to bury the plush play friend in the backyard like I did her missing frog, or if she was going to cremate it in the garbage disposal.
The old lady was seriously concerned, "she's never done this before. They've had weddings, and birthday parties, but never funerals. Some part of her is dead and I have to figure out what part that is". She always tries to find deeper meaning in everything. It's really stupid, though fun to play with.
Of course I interjected, "maybe it's just a spoiled brat screeming for attention". She responded, 'that could be it'. "Of course it is, now let's get back to cooking".
Oh yeah that was the other thing she was pissed off about. She wanted me to cook since I didn't even attempt to make Valentine's reservations for her. I ended up just kind of standing around, while she made all sorts of good stuff. It was for the best, I really don't like to cook anyway.
It's hard to make love work.