I really shouldn’t tell people this… I mean, I really shouldn’t; but this would be a really boring blog if I just told you, people, things I should. So, here we go, let me just kiss goodbye the little self-respect I had left first.
The apartment I currently live on it’s not tiny, but it really lacks privacy… That’s why I’m glad that, while I’m still on summer break, I live with two guys who work and leave me alone on mornings, giving me… Some “loving myself” time. I guess everybody here can back me up on how uncomfortable it can be when you’re trying to masturbate (there! I said it!) while someone is knocking on the door asking you how much more time are you planning to spend inside.
After a mildly satisfactory experience on my brother’s shower (fuck… maybe our relationship is kinda twisted…) I thought about how different men and women have it on that area.
(Of course I’m not talking about the penises and the vaginas, give me some credit.)
Guys are pretty simple when it comes to their thoughts during the whole process. From what I understand, there aren’t even thoughts. Guys just grab a magazine, watch port or think about Megan Fox’s boobs, *insert a couple of faps here* and… Done. Which is great, yeah, whatever.
I can’t do that… And, since I know I’m not a special snowflake, girls will have my back here; just like in everything else in life, it’s a bit more complex for us. Ok, I don’t feel confortable speaking for the entire female race, so I’ll just stop now.
I just can’t ‘do’ an image, I need an entire situation, so I make up short stories for myself. Now, these stories have to make sense, have to have a beginning, a middle and an end. I just can’t be lying half ass naked on a bed, I have to start with the date before that. Even in my fantasies I get a bit offended that Jake Gyllenhaal carried condoms with him on our first date.
There are so much things I have to ask myself for the story to make sense. If a handsome police man decides to force my way out of a ticket, there must be a reason for me to be speeding up on the first place and why in the name of god did I thought it was a good idea to stop on a dark isolated alley.
Here’s a real life example of my train of thought (and god would I love if I was just trying to be funny).
Ok… I’m in a basement and I’m handcuffed to a- to a what? I need something that gives me the movement I need… A pole? Why on hell there would there be a pole in a basement? Old fire place? Stip Club? Ok, I can work on that later. How did she took me here? Did she planed it or it was spontaneous? If it was spontaneous why was she carrying on her purse handcuffs? Ok, it was planned… And if that bitch apparently has super strength she could also had taken the pole with her and install it on the basement. Perfect, problem solved! …No, wait. What kind of underwear are we wearing? Fuck, I’m going to need a couple of hours here and a Victoria Secret’s catalog.