Okay its not Aruba like last year but its still warmer than London, New York, and Wisconsin combined. Who would have thought I would have met a decent looking girl in church, a naughty french oboist girl with a big gallic nose, in the swamps of southeast america?
It took no more than a half hour and two drinks to get insider her christmas underpants. I am the only male under the age of 60 in this fucking town.
Now she is gone and the smell is on my fingers and my cum is in her belly and my mom is yacking away to my grandfather about why he is too old to drive.
I keep thinking I need a life but according to everyone around fucking people you don't know and hanging out with your family is supposed to be the meaning of life. I can't wait to get back to London and back to my real Internet connection and four hour writing sessions on my own keyboard and daily swims and strolls down to Oxford Circus.
Christmas is for Chritians, this sloth prefers to be by himself.