with or without you.

This isn't something that I normally dig my hands into, but I'd like to make a brief trip into the realm of sex. That's a funny sentence, seriously, go back and read it again.

Sometimes facts change. I remember back when I was a small child, the cars we drove and the engines that gave off harmful greenhouses gases were ... well, harmful. Turns out that was a load of shit. There was a recent study that proved that the earth is staying the same temperature. When I say 'recent study' I mean I just made that up. Facts change, deal with it.

Here's a fact that will never change: big vaginas are always funny.

Supposedly, there are a few key thoughts that can turn an otherwise virile young man limp again. You know what I'm talking about. When a guy wants to 'go the distance' for his lady friend or his guy friend, if he likes, he's supposed to think of goofy, off-the-wall-shit that will keep the racer in his car for the last lap, so to speak. Lady friend or guy friend works, because we all know that a warm hole is a warm hole. The guy is the one that is supposed to keep it going because that's the cool thing to do, or something. This type of thinking is wrong on so many levels. I'll go over a few if you keep it together. Ha, get it?

Grandmas, dudes, ugly girls, baseball... wait. Baseball? I tried this. Baseball doesn't work. I think baseball is sexy. It turns me on. I often get an erection just from thinking about baseball. I love it. Do you know why I love it? Because I'm an American. I went there, Americans love baseball. Some Americans love baseball more than others because, let's face it, some people are more American than others. I tried thinking about baseball in order to keep going recently. It didn't work.

My initial reaction was one of shock, basically because I had no idea I love baseball so much. Also because I thought about how stupid that was. Why was I trying to go the distance? Rather, why was I trying to push the finish line farther away? If that's not the epitome of counterproductivity, I have no idea what is. I should be trying to finish as fast as possible, because hey, fuck them anyways. Aha. Another joke.

Who am I trying to impress? The only woman in my life that I want to impress is my mom. And she's told me plenty of times now that she doesn't want to hear me talk about that kind of thing. It's similar to the way my dog will go out in the yard and kill something. He then brings that dead thing back to the porch, as if to say 'hey man, check this out, I'm real bad ass'. The equivalent for me would be 'hey mom, check out this gutterslut, I'm a horrible human being. what's for dinner?'.

Let's put this in a different perspective. When I'm home alone, or not alone, or when my dog is watching and I'm whaling away on myself like there's no tomorrow, I'm not worried about my hand's pleasure. Fuck that guy anyways (lol) he leaves me all raw sometimes and never says he's sorry. So why is it, when I'm slumming after a night of drinking, that kind of nonsensical bad joke of a bad idea pops into my head?

Of course, this is all just a prelude to what I've really been trying to get at. And that's to remind you that big vaginas are always, and will always be funny.