Frustration

So I’m pissed. Not because I have zero tickets to the Miley Cyrus concert. Not
because I can’t get it up, even when I scream psycho babble at my penis. Not
even because I couldn’t go to the best fucking Chief’s game this year
because of the arms-around-the-shoulders incident. You wanna know why I’m
pissed? I’m on a dreaded dry spell ladies and gentlemen. Knock on wood
immediately if you’re getting consistent play, because this shit is fucking
contagious. And here I thought I was vaccinated from the whole thing by
putting together a long term relationship, but apparently that shit only
lasts for a good 3 months, if that. Now I’m not gonna give you an exact
length of time since my last copulation, but I will say that enough time has
gone by where I can only vaguely remember what positions we were in, and the
consummate blood left on my penis after completion. God that blood was
sticky. Back to subject. Everyone says it’s so easy. Its so easy to get
laid, and apparently it is because if the douche bags I run into are getting
laid on a consistent basis, there must really be something wrong with me.
Now, I don’t know if it’s the herpes or the genital warts that somehow crept
up my neck, but I just can’t see what the big roadblock is. I guess what
I’m trying to say is…Becky, are you still as easy as you were a year and a
half ago?