One of my new year's resolutions for this... new year, duh, was to control my self-fucking sessions. They're not bad, you know, like a horde of stinging hornets, but I feel so juvenille loving myself so good, you know? Two 'you knows' in one sentence. Bad! Anyway, I can represent to you in one word exactly how successful my self-control has been in regards to masturbation: scabs. And, baby, I got them. I've never been the lube-and-goo variety for some reason (i.e. laziness), and my best friend pays the price sometimes. Like now, for example. In this fresh new year. I need to sit on my hands when I'm online. If that's even remotely possible.
rys:
Seriously. One 'swallowed' a diver last week. One arm, shoulders and head- he could feel the sharks teeth run across his torso and chest. But, always a resourceful lot, he used his remaining free hand to poke the shark in the eye- at which point shareky decided his vision was worth more than a quick meal. Released relatively unharmed, the fuckwit diver decided to go on TV requesting that water police carry rifles and shoot sharks. Yeah, taking pot shots at endangered species. That's gonna happen...