In Lonely Desperation I Call to Thee

They say hot summer nights beget hot summer romances. I haven't personally experienced a hot summer romance, but I'm not going to lose faith! With approximately fifteen to thirty days left in this gorgeous – and lonely – summer, I will remain steadfast in my determination to bag a sweaty broad. I mean to say that the broad will become sweaty when I am bagging her; and I don’t mean to say that I am going to literally “bag” her (ie. Intentionally rub my bag [balls] on any part of her body).

However, if for whatever reason a woman derives some sort of pleasure from having balls rubbed on her, I will, of course, fully oblige her. While most of the time I prefer to exercise discretion in choosing to sexually expose my balls in a public setting, my end-of-summer desperation may see me exposing my balls in some – possibly even flamboyant – scene of public display.

I must admit that I have come significantly close in achieving sexual satisfaction on one occasion this summer, but it was all-together thwarted by the other individual’s insistency on turning around to face me. I made a promise to myself that I would never engage in any sort of physical activity with the Philadelphia cream cheese woman; and that applies even more so to a man that looks exactly like her. That incident occurred in the wooded area of a park at about 4:30 am after I had left a 14-hour LAN party. Like a computer screen without a screensaver, the images of the on-line game had been burned into my eyes, preventing me from being able to see properly. From the bushes in the park, I heard a “Psst,” and I followed it in a daze. Two strong arms grabbed me from behind and I felt a bristly kiss on my face. “Get away from me!” I yelled as I pulled the figure closer to me. The Philadelphia Cream Cheese man turned away dramatically, only to turn around again almost instantly. Again, I felt a coarse peck on my cheek and decided that it would be best if I just walked away. So, that was that.

If any women out there are interested in a cool, autumn fling, I am ready and willing to offer heated pleasure.

Frig

I realize that I started this blog a while ago and I haven't written in it for a few months. I don't think that was a proper way for me to start. I got too big for my breeches. I'll have you know that I just bought some new breeches (the old ones got too small because I ate too many custard tarts!), and I am ready to dive headlong into another series of sexual exploits. 

It wouldn't be fair if I didn't tell you about what I have been doing for the past few months. First of all, this  blog allowed me access to women that I didn't know existed. I have now experienced women of vast breast size, women of all colours, women who wear clothes made of fine silk, women who are deaf (but keen of heart), and even women who hate cats. Every woman that I had met before this blog loved cats. Anyway, I had sex with all of them. It is hard to believe how much experience you can gain in such a short period of time!

I spent a particularly concentrated amount of time with one woman. Her name was Olga Chernekov, and she was a Russian ex-pat. She told me that she moved to Canada because Russia was 'hard to live in', but I know she really came for the hot dogs. It's almost like there were no hot dogs in Russia. Olga ate at least 3 hot dogs a day during the time that I knew her, and she ate them with a ferocity that was so ferocious and daring that I had to have her. When she asked me to marry her I told her where the door was, and I threw her out of the window. 

There were a few other women thrown out of the window in the last few months as well. Honestly, who would have known that blogging could be such a lucrative venture? I have started writing a book on the subject and you can expect it to drop March 14, 2010. 

I would like to tell you a little more about - Oh, fuck it. Fuck this. I can't believe that I would resort to lying in an attempt to better my image. In all honesty, the last few months have seen  me staring out of my bedroom window into my backyard. There were a couple of times that I went outside to throw snowballs at this little fucker kid that makes fun of me every time I pass him on the street, but he is very quick and was able to dodge every one of my throws. 

I will keep at this, really. I've lost almost all hope, but no one can take a man's dreams away from him. 

Scootin'

Until I get my motorcycle from some guy in Ajax, I'm going to have to keep riding around town on my scooter. The guy in Ajax keeps telling me he has to 'find it', which is weird because how do you lose a motorcycle? I could look cool on a Vespa or something, but those are expensive.

This guy in Ajax, he's selling me something he referred to as: "I don't know, man, it'll be like a bike with a motor in it, y'know. You just get on it and ride, bro. Don't worry, you'll have chicks jumpin' on the back before you can say 'This is illegal because I don't have a helmet for you.'"
I added that quote because that's what I'd actually say. "Tits from Tennesee," is what he really said, but I didn't really understand the meaning.

So, I've been scooting around town on one of those foot-powered scooters that you see children riding, because that's all I can afford at the moment. I want to cover as much ground as possible. My brother always told me that the minute I see the girl of my dreams will be the minute that lasts a lifetime. I hope that isn't true because I'd like to get a chance to talk to her!

But, to wax a little more serious, I have to say that I'm sort of losing faith in the idea that this blog will get me chicks...

While riding around town today, most of what I heard was laughter. It was so hard for me to turn my head to see who was laughing because I was bent down so low in order to keep my hands on the handlebars. The only time I was able to make eye contact with a beauty was when I hit a curb and tumbled into a pile of garbage bags in front of a fish market. I started gagging loudly and rubbing myself, trying to get the fish water off of me, but it proved impossible. On the way home I had to wade through a sea of people, all of whom were elbowing and pushing me violently, screaming "GET AWAY, YOU FUCKING SMELL," and things of the like.

I'm hoping things will turn around soon.

Crossing my fingers,

Fishman

Corporate Love

Woah! First contact!!
So: As it happens, I was walking down the street today, jobless and lonely, right? No, you wouldn't believe it. I don't know, I just feel so shameless writing about this stuff because I'm not really that kind of guy.

Alright, I'll tell you! So, I was walking down like the most fashionable and expensive street in the city today and i saw this woman. Wow, I'm really finding it hard to describe how beautiful she was in words. I'll try to, but I don't know if I can do it justice!

Here it goes. She was tall, robust, really busty, and platinum blonde. Her roots were showing slightly, but in a provocative way. It was almost like she was trying to say "here I am, and I'm ready." She was typing something into a tiny computer (totally tech-saavy), and soon after she raised it to her ear as if she could hear what I was whispering. "Oh my GOD," she mouthed, slowly into the tiny computer.
I couldn't believe she heard me when I said "you," while pointing at her, but she did! Anyway, she had this really surprised look on her face and I could feel the sensuality oozing from her somewhat clogged pores. I can't really attest as to whether or not she had acne, but she had these sensual bumps covering her face. The colour of the bumps matched her face when she turned to meet a certain light, but time was short, so my perception was skewed. Needless to say, she winked at me while the rest of her face seemed to grimace. "A mating call," I thought, as I approached, the bars of the patio seeming almost like those of a prison cell.
"I've never been to prison," I said as I approached.
"Well, you're about to have your first experience," She said.

The sirens of the three approaching squad cars sounded to me like the beautiful voices of.....sirens.

I only remember asking the beauty if she liked to be tied up as the handcuffs slowly wrapped around my wanton wrists, both limp and lifeless from my hunger strike against poverty.

I am currently unaware of my reason for arrest, but my lawyer (appointed by the city) will be arriving soon to fill me in on the details. Until next time, loyal readers!

I Need Results

Ok, so I've been doing this blog thing for a day now with no results. I brought my phone to bed with me, hoping to get a call during the night, but it didn't happen. I had the whole god-damned conversation planned out, too. It went a little something like this:
Ring.
Ring.
Kirk: Hello?
Babe: Hi, is this Kirk?
Kirk: Yes, who is this?
Babe: This is D--
Kirk: That is my favourite name.
Babe: I know. I've been reading your blog.
Kirk: I wrote it for you, you know. You mean the world to me.
Babe: That's what I thought! I mean, I just felt like, so comfortable when I was reading it. It was crazy!
Kirk: Girl, you don't know the half of it.
Babe: I need to meet you in person so we can get this started. I'm into all sorts of crazy shit.
Kirk: Like what?
Babe: I really want to make love in a willow tree at sun-up
Kirk: The branches on a willow tree won't be able to support our love. They are too weak.
Babe: Hm. Well, the only other option is for me to make you weep like one.
Kirk: I am weeping right now, thinking about us on our wedding day!
Babe: I do! I do!!!

Hey Ladies

I overheard this beautiful, busty broad in the bar tonight. She was talking about blogs, how she loved them, and said "[That] if any man in this bar had a blog and I knew about it, I'd lay him down atop this beautifully crafted cedar bar and show him what the world was made of." I thought, "Fuck, it's mostly rock and water, but I'm interested in her interpretation."
So, here I am, blogging. Blogging for love. So, if any of you ladies out there love a cool 'blogger', here I am, open and ready for business.
I don't even care what you look like. Are you a frog princess? I'll kiss you and turn you into a prince. When you look in the mirror, do you see a monster of a human being? I'll be your Dr. Frankenstein. I'll tell you before we make love that I am aware of the fact that I didn't create you, but if you want me to, I'll pretend like I did.
Anyway, enough about me. What kind of stuff are you into, sweet darling? I could listen to you for hours.