I’ve been chatting with 3 glorious fellow bloggers outside of WordPress and thought I’d grace you with some of the shit they now hear from me. This is literally the last 3 days direct quotes to one of them (but they’ve all heard it in various wording).
1. Alright, background story. Let’s be frank here and get it all out on the table. I was sending a dirty msg. Or a few. It was night, my lights were off and the only light in my room was from my tablet. Then I saw something move on my chin. Later on I sent this;
Its legs touched my mouth. I’m not joking in the slightest.
Anyway for the sake of your horniness, I jumped in the air, turned the light on, saw it had landed on the bedside table, took a photo, then continued.
And strangely I’m still horny but I think I sprained my stomach muscle and my heart is beating pretty fast.”
2. Later we had a conversation about the movie Fear and Loathing. It was pretty late so I tried to go to sleep.
I did a Snapchat and wrote on it “Can’t sleep. That spider gave me the heeby jeebies and now I think its in my bed. And I’m still horny. Fear and lusting!”
Then a message. “Just so you know, while doing that Snapchat, a moth flew up my nose. True story.”
3. “I’m perpetually unlucky. I was born on Friday the 13th and used to be a window cleaner which involved me walking under ladders most days. I’m not superstitious but my good friend once found three 4 leaf clovers in the same day at work, so I looked at looked and all I could find was some retarded deformed one. So I was like “Ha! Suck it! Try and find another one of THOSE!” He bends down and picks up a 5 leaf clover from next to my foot and hands it to me. So I fucking ate it. In conclusion, it didn’t work.”
4. “I’m trying to bleach a section of my hair with this spray stuff and its not working – it just makes fumes go in my face and make me more insane than normal.”
Some further info on that; Last time I tried to spray it all over my hair, but it also sprayed on my shoulders and started bleaching my skin, creating white dots. Yeah, you heard it right here, I went whiter, which to me means I’m semi-tanned :O now I just have to convince the sun of that fact.. Anyway, it said something about not getting it on your clothes, so I was in the bathroom just in my undies doing it. I guess I didn’t read the entire safety blurb because after my skin started bleaching, I read on the packet that it shouldn’t come into contact with skin. So I hop in the shower but I’m thinking ‘what about my scalp?!?!’.
5. “And also I’m now kicking it with the oldies cos I just used hemorrhoid cream. Which by the way, goes on a finger and into the bum. I’ve got no problems fingering my butt but my dad gave me the cream with a medical glove. I asked “what’s the glove for?!”. He explained. And another awkward convo was had in my life once again.. In conclusion, I didn’t use the glove.
If you’re asking yourself ‘ohhhh how’d ya get that?’, well the truth is I’m pretty sure it happened in a ‘let’s try anal again’ scenario months back. My butt got itchy and I thought I had worms so I took a tablet and thought it was over. But now there’s paaaain. So self diagnosis is back and I’m sure I’ve got an old man hemma. From straining at a dick that should not have entered my bum.
Life is just one big circus! It drains my energy maaannn. If a burgler busted into my house right now I wouldn’t be able to defend myself, but instead I’d tell him the sad tale of my life and he’d end up crying and giving me $50. Not dissimilar to George from Seinfeld trying to get that apartment when he was up against the pearl harbour survivor.
Oh damn, I wiped my mouth with my bum inserting finger.. Soap works right?!”
6. “I’m accepting of the fact that I’m a walking circus, with elephants standing on balls and monkeys riding bikes and then throwing their poop into the audience. Just don’t mention the clowns. Noooooopeeeeeee. Awww dammit. I just realised I have another phobia.
Fuck you clowns!! Show your face!
And why do they draw their lips so big?!?! Really. Its clearly not their lips.”
The response pointed out that clowns are lovable because they’re pathetic.
“Pffff I’m more pathetic than a clown and at least I show my face. Cos I’m proud of my patheticness!”
For the record, I don’t use my real name or show photos on WordPress to protect the anonymity of people mentioned. And on the off chance I somehow get famous (stop laughing, there’s a very slight chance that could happen..) Getting bombarded every time you leave the house sounds like an awful way to live. So there, nothing to do with my shame level.