Fighting Fellatio

“Sex is interesting, but it's not totally important. I mean it's not even as important (physically) as excretion. A man can go seventy years without a piece of ass, but he can die in a week without a bowel movement.” - Charles Bukowski


Some of us keep fighting. What are we fighting for? We usually don't know until we get our asses kicked.
I got my ass kicked recently, yet I have this viagrated amnesia for what I am fighting for. Some people say, that love is blind, but I think love is just Mother Nature giving us a fucking golden shower.


Some people give an understatement and say, you've changed, but to me, it's just the lasting effect of a lesson learned, like never to go anal without the appropriate amount of lube, or else someone is gonna wake the neighbours.


I'm about to settle back in from a weekend that I never wanted to end, like all good things, but as I sit typing at 8:30 pm and after looking at my Facebook profile and recollecting the promiscuous events that ejaculated in this shit filled weekend, I can't help but think about vagina and the lessons I learned, that even on a Monday will stick with me.


It's nothing salacious, nothing that make will make you wet and start fellating yourself in the dark, but rather make you think about the times where you lost your balls, or you felt that your uteris was about to fall off, after that very thing you fought for didn't exist.


Either way, you get up and keep fighting, only trimmed pussies throw in the towel.