coming up...
what a nice, cloudy day. and there's no work, because the electricity's out at office.
so. pleasantly cloudy day, no work, no office, and here i am in front of the computer. it must mean something. that i don't have much of a life, i expect.
and on top of everything else, i've got a slightly guilty feeling. i should be doing something, dammit. not sitting around farting on blogspot. well i suppose it's either that or sit around fiddling with my dangly bits. which i intend on doing of course, but it's always better when there's a feeling of accomplishment. so, this blog.
laa lala laa...
ok, i can't hit enter after every few syllables, that's cheating. i wonder why there's so much of a hoo haa about giving yourself what is in essence, a therapeutic massage. admittedly, it's a very focused one, but in the end, you're just doing what you're programmed to do. i mean, i do it inside my head often enough. everybody does. and certainly a brainstorming session is nothing more than a bunch of people doing it with their minds, out loud.
why are some people so scared of a good wank? don't touch it. it's not good. just. because i said so. for the last time... do you want to go BLIND?! it's sad actually, the sex doctor columns in the papers are full of people asking whether masturbation (since the age of 13, 15 or in one pathetic case, 21) will lead to height problems (duh, that's smoking), fertility problems, motility problems, ability problems, blindness, deafness, loss of appetite... the list goes on. it's scary to think that so many people attribute practically every known affliction under the sun to a little monkey-spanking. if i was them i'd be building barbed wire fences with alarms and guard dogs around my nether regions out of sheer fear of what i'd do to myself with my own hand. so i guess there is one way for a man to choke himself to death. ahaha.
in the middle ages in Europe they had extremely spiky belt things that would become seriously uncomfortable to the wearer if he unfortunately happened to get a boner. talk about squeezing the sin out of someone.
and then you have all these sad, repressed people walking around trying to stamp out any display of love, lust, and anything different to their 'moral standards' by declaring crusade, jihad, holy war. which is where there's killing, raping, and looting only it's coming from the right - make that righteous - place, so it's ok. it is, and don't you be contradicting me, you heathen/infidel/unbeliever you.
i'm not advocating 'free love' (so don't stick that in there, i'm planning on using it this evening, thanks), but what's so wrong with a little stimulation?
so. pleasantly cloudy day, no work, no office, and here i am in front of the computer. it must mean something. that i don't have much of a life, i expect.
and on top of everything else, i've got a slightly guilty feeling. i should be doing something, dammit. not sitting around farting on blogspot. well i suppose it's either that or sit around fiddling with my dangly bits. which i intend on doing of course, but it's always better when there's a feeling of accomplishment. so, this blog.
laa lala laa...
ok, i can't hit enter after every few syllables, that's cheating. i wonder why there's so much of a hoo haa about giving yourself what is in essence, a therapeutic massage. admittedly, it's a very focused one, but in the end, you're just doing what you're programmed to do. i mean, i do it inside my head often enough. everybody does. and certainly a brainstorming session is nothing more than a bunch of people doing it with their minds, out loud.
why are some people so scared of a good wank? don't touch it. it's not good. just. because i said so. for the last time... do you want to go BLIND?! it's sad actually, the sex doctor columns in the papers are full of people asking whether masturbation (since the age of 13, 15 or in one pathetic case, 21) will lead to height problems (duh, that's smoking), fertility problems, motility problems, ability problems, blindness, deafness, loss of appetite... the list goes on. it's scary to think that so many people attribute practically every known affliction under the sun to a little monkey-spanking. if i was them i'd be building barbed wire fences with alarms and guard dogs around my nether regions out of sheer fear of what i'd do to myself with my own hand. so i guess there is one way for a man to choke himself to death. ahaha.
in the middle ages in Europe they had extremely spiky belt things that would become seriously uncomfortable to the wearer if he unfortunately happened to get a boner. talk about squeezing the sin out of someone.
and then you have all these sad, repressed people walking around trying to stamp out any display of love, lust, and anything different to their 'moral standards' by declaring crusade, jihad, holy war. which is where there's killing, raping, and looting only it's coming from the right - make that righteous - place, so it's ok. it is, and don't you be contradicting me, you heathen/infidel/unbeliever you.
i'm not advocating 'free love' (so don't stick that in there, i'm planning on using it this evening, thanks), but what's so wrong with a little stimulation?
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