I’m Finally Super Horny…& Men Are Stressed.
The world is fantastically cruel.
For years and years, I’ve been the stressed one. As a teen, I didn’t have sex because my mom was a teen mom, and I wanted to wait until I wasn’t a teenager so there was no way I’d have that label.
Then I felt pressure to fake it for a guy’s ego, and then I made bad decisions and ended up in relationships where my needs weren’t met, until I finally swore of sex for almost three years as I worked on myself.
Okay! I’m good now!
The world is ending and now is the perfect time! I have examined my poor choices, unraveled my inhibitions, defined myself separately from a job or a relationship, traveled the world, and you bet I’m not gonna fake it for anyone’s feelings.
Let’s do it right here! I’m ready to go. Shaved or not, on my period or not, in public or not, hell, I don’t care if you don’t care.
There’s just one problem.
Now everyone else is all in their feelings. Men afraid they’ve lost their job security, their purpose in life, their excuses for not doing what they wanted. Life didn’t turn out according to plan. They’re afraid. They want to be consoled.
And I just wanna get down.
I don’t want a partner for the end of the world. I don’t need anyone filling up the fridge with meat, the cabinets with toilet paper. I’ve been doing just fine on my own. I don’t wanna be wifed for the end days. I just want a man like a stray cat…comes by for one thing, and then leaves. But now, they all want something else!
I’ve been fine being single in lockdown. If anything, it’s confirmed how much I really enjoy having time and space to myself. So there you have it — I’m not expecting anything.
I thought the world was supposed to be full of fuckboys. Where are they now? One bad year and it all shuts down? Where is the commitment to the fuckboy life? (Well, I guess fuckboys aren’t into commitment, right.)
Point is: I’m finally ready to go here, and now all my prospects have stalled.
I don’t want to talk about feelings or anxiety or fear or trauma anymore. Been there, done that. Can we hit the sack? Yes, the world is ending. Can we sex about it?
Sigh. I would really love to be more sympathetic, but my sex rage is so strong that my acupuncturist is worried. She says if I don’t release my heat, my skin will erupt into hives.
So you see, medically, I have to tear you apart.
Now I’m the insensitive jerk.
And it’s great! I can see why this is so fun. If you’re not here to drop off some dick, please leave. I truly do not want to hear about anything else.
The feelings farm is closed. Keep the fear; I’m done with it. I’m horny and angry for the end days.
Hongry, if you will.
The end of the world has freed me of my inhibitions. I just want to vote, protest, write, and yes, bone. 🍆
If you have a recent covid test, of course.
