It is quite revealing when you write little blurbs in your google documents whilst in the grips of an alcohol induced and self reflecting stupor. Here are some of the things I wrote after finishing off a bottle of Sailor Jerry's Rum that I found in my pantry sitting all alone and in need of a friend. I selflessly put aside my own needs and spent the rest of my night in the arms of Sailor Jerry. He was not as kind to me as I was to him. Probably because I didn't put out like I promised to in the beginning of our night. I'll admit it, I'm kind of a tease. The whole night ended badly, for me. I wrote about many things that all seemed to be stemmed from my prudish denial to make wild monkey sex with my imaginary rum sailor like he was only in port for the next 2 hours. Now you can know how fucked up I really am when I'm inebriated (and sober).
Blurb 1:
David Bowie is calling to me to do something amazing. But I’m afraid of failure, and more afraid of success. I dare not disappoint David Bowie. But it is myself that is the most disappointed. David Bowie is scowling his disapproval as I type this. FUCK YOU DAVID BOWIE. I mean, yes David Bowie, I will live up to my potential and start doing important shit with my life. Also, I will write my Ziggy Stardust inspired screenplay that delves into my own personal madness. Thank you David Bowie.
Blurb 2:
Words never stop running through my mind. I have more stories inside my head than I can get out. It is confusing and overwhelming so I end up not typing anything at all. Frustration yet again. What would Data Do? I'll tell you what Data would do. He would be grateful for such a human experience like confusion and creative crisis. Quit crying and be thankful for being human and not Data.
Blurb 3:
Duran Duran is my favorite masturbation music. It sets the mood with the excesses of the 80's and the rhythm of a gypsy's soul. A naughty gypsy sex slave. One who pretends not to like being a sex slave, but actually holds the power over her captors and she gets off on it so much that she creates reasons for them to punish her with a stiff leather riding crop. Submissiveness is power.
Blurb 4:
I just threw out a box of condoms that expired in 2009. This depressed me greatly. Not just that I haven’t needed them in all this time, but the fact that I hadn’t noticed they expired until then end of 2011. That is just really sad. I have just moved up to the top of the sex-life-loser list. I guess only Jesus would be proud of my chastity. But considering that I am not even a Christian, this should not be a concern. But Jesus is kind of a cool dude when you think about it. I mean he was the original rise up against the establishment and hang with other weird dudes and prostitues guy. Whatever, Jesus probably wouldn't like me saying fuck so much. But I don't need anyone to be proud of my celibacy. I need someone to say; Good God woman, I'll fuck you already.
Blurb 5:
Seeking a silver tongued nerd to dazzle me with geek talk and fly me away on his Firefly class space ship. He must be handsome, strong, and filled with a sense of honor and chivalry that is outdated, ill-advised, and sometimes awkwardly sexist. He should want to fuck me like a cheap whore and keep me spoiled like a polished lady of means. I have no idea what 'means' means.
The moral of this story is don't drink and reflect. You end up sounding really horny. Also, I just found my Aragorn action figure which has nothing to do with this post.
Next time I get drunk and start writing random shit I'll mention Star Trek TNG, Battlestar Galactica, Indiana Jones, and Doctor Who as they relate to my sex life. (I mean I'll mention TNG more)
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