TeeCee posts about cats

Everyday I play a little game. In this game I attempt to clean my home and place my hands on items that I plan to pick up. The trick of the game is "will this/ won't this be covered in cat urine?!"

I'm losing.

Oh, Mike. I'm glad you're in Vancouver.

I had a one-night stand with Mike in Vancouver a few years ago. I still talk to him from time to time. He's married. He wasn't married when we spent the night in a (rather fancy downtown) Holiday Inn, but he was in a relationship. He hid this fact, saying he was "kind of dating someone." He meant that he was engaged, but I amorally took this to mean that he was seeing someone but it wasn't exclusive. His fault for not saying, my fault for not asking. Anyway. We had awesome sex and used up all the condoms and were reciprocal with all the downstairs business.

We chat each other up once a month or so. I'm not really interested in him, but I love the attention. I love that he still looks at my pictures and admits to some light facebook stalking. I find it very sexy and comforting to know that I was his last fling before settling down, and that I'm someone he'll always remember fondly and with gratitude. I can't bring myself to judge him for betraying his fiancee, because then I'd have to judge myself for going back to chat with him any time I'm feeling the slightest bit down on myself, knowing that he things I'm gorgeous and wants to say nice things to me all the time. It's addictive and soothing. Who wouldn't want that? Is it emotional cheating if we never talk about sex or make any plans to meet? I won't lie- I would be insanely flattered if he jerked off and thought of me. I don't think of him when I jerk off, though.

I told him I had taken a lot of selfies recently in an indulgent moment of loving the way my hair looked. He asked for a collage. A couple of the pictures were kind of sexy- nothing a bathing suit wouldn't reveal, but you know what I mean. I included those ones. 

I'd like to think that I'm not the type of person who would sleep with a married man, but I'm grateful that he's thousands of miles away.

This post is gay

In regards to DOMA being ruled unconstitutional:


Suck my Dick, Homophobes.


In a gay way.

Aah, so THAT'S it...

Childhood friend who inexplicably married way above your attractiveness level, irritating me slightly every time I'd see a picture,

I finally saw a candid photo of you two. I get it now. Carry on.

#toomuchbitchyforfacebook

Fuck hashtags.

X Hamster

I jerked off to actual, human porn today. That sounds like I dig donkey on donkey action, but I mean I usually either read erotica or sexy comic books. I don't really like live porn because I tend to find it boring, especially since all the ladies are all hairless and gross and all the also hairless (bleguhgh) dudes end up finishing up with a blowjob and who the fuck FINISHES with a blowjob? That's like finishing a meal with bruschetta.

Instagram agrees: best for food porn, not real porn

Anyway, I spent some time with X Hamster today (wtf is up with that name) and it was pretty great. That tattooed psychologist with gauged ears sure did get banged by those big dicked prisoners.

TeeCee posts about doing it.

You know, that was pretty great....

 ...but could you please get off me/ out of me. I think my Candy Crush has elapsed enough time for a new turn.



 ...I love that post-coitus shower time (that my husband takes, I would never* shower after sex...) a little too much.




*exaggeration.

TeeCee's posts about doing it.

Husband says "...and thats when I knew she would be wife. I knew I didn't have to hide my valtrex." TeeCee

Something Good

Anyeong!

In case it seems my "too many feelings for facebook" are overwhelmingly negative in these first two posts, here's something positive.

The erotica I write is really good. It's my very favorite erotica!

Hi, everyone. Jeongmin Kim here.

And I have too many feelings for facebook.

Here's today's status that I would love to post that I never will.

Caleb, you were my first real boyfriend and you were the shittiest boyfriend imaginable. You introduced me as a "friend" to one of your cool hipster buddies after we had been fucking and basically living at each other's houses for 5 months, you kept my gift I brought you from Istanbul in its bag which you used to store your garbage, and you broke up with me over email because I wanted to celebrate our one-year anniversary. Look, that's alright. That's what first boyfriends do sometimes. They provide a template against which we can judge all future boyfriends.

I saw this license plate at a mall once and literally thought it might somehow be you.

Tragically, my addiction to social media means I don't get to see you disappear into the mist like people usually get to have happen to their first serious, vaguely emotionally abusive boyfriend. I have blocked you on facebook, unfollowed all your friends (I'm a performer so I can't just unfriend everyone- I might need their support for a project someday, dammit) but you STILL POP UP. It's been years, but I regularly have to feel those echo shitty feelings when I see your apparently now-trimmed beard and obnoxiously fit body. Before I finally managed to block you on twitter today (it was hard- I love followers more than feelings) I tortured myself by reading your tweets all the way back to May. Congratulations on dating someone. That's more than you managed to admit to doing with me for the aforementioned five months. Who knows. Maybe you learned from our failed relationship. 

Here's the thing. I fucking hate your guts. Still. I fucking hate how I allowed you to treat me, how you made me feel unattractive, how my stupid, immature love for you and craving for a relationship made me accept from you what I would never have accepted from a friend. I hate that our mutual friends put you in videos and plays and shows because in spite of being a pretty bad person (at least to me) you're talented, which made it harder to end things. 

Now this is what I want. I want you to break something. Not permanently injure yourself- just break it so that it is too painful to do anything other than do the absolute bare minimum- to and from work. I want you to spend this gorgeous summer- and a little into fall- recuperating painfully. I want this injury to reveal how shallow your girlfriend is, as your inability to fuck with this injury (go with me on this) means she's no longer interested. 

Once the worst summer of your life is over, you may return to full strength. You may find a new girlfriend. I believe that this amount of pain will make things about even. I may even unblock you on Twitter. 

I would never do this to you, both because I love not going to jail and I am not a violent person, but Dinnshenchas, who Google claims is the goddess of wronged women?

 

Please get on this.