Pens and Kleenex
(I'm sorry.)
(It's okay. This is a not unique condition.)
Pens and Kleenex are ubiquitous in my home, the instruments of writing and the notebooks of masturbation. The pens spread black ink, the Kleenex collects white. Both enable relief. One day the pens will make the Kleenex obsolete. I will have only one box, warm, instead of this patterned cardboard harem.
(It's okay. This is a not unique condition.)
Pens and Kleenex are ubiquitous in my home, the instruments of writing and the notebooks of masturbation. The pens spread black ink, the Kleenex collects white. Both enable relief. One day the pens will make the Kleenex obsolete. I will have only one box, warm, instead of this patterned cardboard harem.
posted by JMH | 10:28 PM
1 Comments:
I can't contain my ejaculation like a man. I've wondered if there are women who can.
And do.
Bert, the whisky drinkin' chimney sweep, plans on throwing in his broom. For something more seductive. Something less exposed.
Separate selves are often a necessity. As is vagueness.
I'll stop back by when I've chosen my new persona.
Thank you for your toleration. I don't thank people enough for that.
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