To add another thing to the thread, also scent-based: The idea that your house needs to smell like friggin' flowers. The commercials on television that pretty much say "Hey, your house smells like shit, plug this Glade thing in and it'll smell like shit overlaid with flowers!" irritate me - if your house smells godawful, there is a REASON! Covering it with fake-flower smell is like someone using deodorant to try to hide the fact that they haven't showered in two weeks. If your house stinks, maybe you should actually CLEAN it.
I prefer capris over shorts because like quite a few girls, my thighs touch, and that leads to that god-awful wedgie look after you've walked for awhile in shorts. Also when it's stinking hot and my thighs have been touching, they start sticking together from the sweat and it drives me nuts. Capris are cooler than pants, yet prevent the wedgie look and thigh-sticking phenomenon.
I managed to get a pubic hair into one of my stereos once, I could see the light shining off of it as I looked through the ventilation holes. I was a nerd and had found the true use of the penis at the time, only explanation as to how it got there... furious masturbation at a guess.
I Have another one.....so I work with this girl that LOVES me, she's really cute...not too bright, but she seems like a nice girl. We had made out before, but not much else. Well I hadn't seen her in a couple months, and I ask her to hang out. She agrees and we go to the movies one afternoon, and grab a bite to eat. She's looking f'ing hot in a white skirt and tank top and I can't wait to get them off her. I take her to my apartment and we start making out...I get her down to her thong and we move it into the bedroom. She's laying on her back, on my sheets and we're about to do it when I actually have a moment of conscience. She had said earlier she was popping pills, and she DID seem out of it, and I just couldn't take advantage of her. I thought in my head 'fsck...I can't do this..that's basically rape".So I make up some excuse and I take her back to where her car was parked.
So afterwards I get home, and I head into my room to make my bed. I walk in and notice something is wrong...oh boy is something wrong. There's a giant brown streak going down my sheets where her butt was. There was girl feces ALL over my sheets from this girl.
I can't even look at her to this day
Myspace is a filthy whore.
I joined back when myspace first started becoming popular 3 years ago or so. I was 18 at the time. Myspace hookups were happening and this one super fine 18 year old asian/puerto rican chick started hitting on me via AIM for a couple of weeks until we made plans to hook up. Before we made plans to meet, she told me she had to come clean about something. She was really 16. Well fine, fuck it. I'm 18 and this girl is insanely gorgeous. A 2 year age difference isn't a big deal. So we get ready to meet up, she brought a friend, I brought a friend.
When we went to grab her I was amazed. This girl was beautiful. She had huge breast that defied gravity. There was no droop. They were porn star tits. Her ass was so tight, If I were to bounce a quarter off of it, the quarter would lodge into a tree trunk. She was perfect.
So we go back to my place, start watching a movie, we start making out on one couch have my hand up her shirt, start fingering her, and so on and so forth. I ask her if she wants to go upstairs. We go upstairs and right before we have sex she lets me know she's a virgin. Awkward. Whatever though, she was super hot and I was horny and 18 so I fucked her brains out and ate her out.
We parted ways, everything was cool. Nothing horrible yet.
No, the horrible part came a few months ago when I was thinking about her and whatever happend to her so I went to check out her myspace. Her age was set to 17. Which means she was 14 and I was 18 when I fucked her.
Cons: causes bad nightmares. I used to have to eat beef until I passed out to have these kind of terrors, but this machine does it for me every time I fall asleep inside it.
Sorry about the blurry photo. I was lunging at my phone, yelling at it to take a clear picture. It's the only image of me that exists. I'd take another picture for you, but I'm in the middle of a rigorous trampoline session.
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