To start the last year of the world off right,
Dudefriend left his job.
This is fine. I totally supported this. Being a marketing executive was not only stressful, but boring. Just totally time consuming with stressful, boring responsibilities. It’s one thing to be stressed about creative things you enjoy, but an entirely other thing to be stifling yourself in a nine to five when you could be doing so much more because you’re a super talented & handsome bro like Dudefriend.
But Dudefriend really needs to get a freaking job.
This is not because he’s broke or can’t pay bills,
and it’s not because I don’t love seeing him when I get home,
but because he is totally fucking with my daily routine.
See, every morning he would go to work all early
& I would start in on my routine:
Caffeine.
Work out.
Shower.
Blow dry.
Dance in my underwear.
Masturbate.
Get dressed.
Do my makeup.
Leave.
Most of my routine has not been disrupted by Dudefriend being home all the time, except the two most important parts! Dancing & masturbating!
Now, I know what you’re thinking, that the masturbating shouldn’t be an issue since now Dudefriend is around to sex me up all the time but that’s not it. The masturbating has nothing to do with sex. See, if I could get what I get from jerking off from a dude, I would. I would get it from Dudefriend. But it’s not the same because I don’t like, fantasize about me & Jon Hamm (OK, fine, sometimes). I fantasize about me & my imaginary career. I fantasize about me on the red carpet, about me in black & white topless photos in French Vogue and I fantasize about me on yachts & shit. That is what gets me off. I would think that I’m an INSANE person but I know a lot of other people who do this shit too (although, they’re all actresses, so maybe I am insane).
And the dancing in my underwear, well I don’t think I have to explain why I don’t do that in front of Dudefriend… because it would be fucking embarrassing.
And I would never live it down for the rest of my life.
He sees me practicing to pop my ass & he laughs his face off & I play it off like I’m just kidding around BUT I’M NOT. I REALLY WANT TO BE ABLE TO POP MY ASS & I’M NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO POP MY ASS IF HE DOESN’T GET HIS ASS BACK TO WORK.
I know, I know.
Ass popping & banging myself.
Seems silly, right?
WELL, IT’S FUCKING NOT.
Because it’s part of my routine! The routine that makes me feel good! Kinda like how I shave my legs every day no matter what, not for a dude, but because shaving my legs every day makes me feel good about me! (And of course, because you never know when you’re going to be in a bikini.)
You think I just wake up being able to delude myself into believing I’m going to be a fucking baller who valets her Mercedes at the mall?! You think I can just naturally do that, sober?! I CAN’T, OKAY? I CAN’T! IT’S A PROCESS!
IT’S A MINDSET! A MINDSET THAT TAKES SO MUCH
UNDERWEAR DANCING & JERKING OFF!
Success is an attitude, guys.
And if you can’t get into the ‘tude,
what do you have?
Whiskey.
That’s what you have.
[Currently Listening 2 new Beach House]
hilarious.
thank you!