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Saturday, November 22, 2003
I hope the Wallabies rock out tonight! Not because my nationalistic pride swells whenever we crush the opposition, because as if I could give two shits. Okay, that's a lie; I can get rather... rowdy watching sports (I'm butch like that). But if the Wallabies win, the city and Valley will be surged with packs of fit guys celebrating our triumph, and getting pissed off their tits. Drunken jubilation = hot straight boys willing to be violated.
I experienced this holy grail of sexual conquests the other night, actually: fooling around with a straight dude. Actually, I should write that as "straight", because I suppose it doesn't matter what people say. He did possess a seemingly infinite wealth of knowledge about Home and Away and Neighbours (and Boris' Breakfast Club!), so I guess he can't have been all that straight. Unfortunately I didn't get to ride what would be a virgin arse, nor was mine. I probably could have gone either way, as it's about bloody time I got busted in I think. But his dick was massive (which, by the way, was totally out of proportion with his unimpressive money shot. How disappointing!). I'm sorry, but that thing isn't going anywhere near my a-hole. I probably would have needed anal stitches and a blood transfusion. Sigh. Where are all the hot, small dicked, sarcastic, straight dudes who are willing to go fag after a few drinks? I would suggest Andrew G., but he isn't exactly hot or straight. |
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