quizzical pussy

It is a fact both fundamental and under-appreciated: men’s bodies are sexy. The male body is a beautiful, astounding thing, and keeping it healthy is fucking important.

So, because most men (as well as some women) happen to have prostates, before September ends I want to mention that it’s prostate cancer awareness month. Check out Ambulance Driver’s blog to learn about Kilted to Kick Cancer. He’s been promoting it all month by wearing a kilt around town, spotlighting other bloggers doing the same, and raising money for cancer research.

So check that out. And enjoy today’s ConTuesday devoted to penises, prostates, and health!

Did I mention that kilts are sexy too? That’s not even a confession. It’s a fact.

On to the confessions:

Not too far out I guess, but for ME it was…

Told my GF she could fuck me in the ass with a strap-on if she could find one with a small enough dick (had part of my rectum removed due to cancer and just can’t fit much up there). Let her (actually, begged her…) to finger me deep in the ass while she blew me. It was pretty good.

There are smaller dildos specifically for anal play that you can use with strap-on harnesses. For instance, the small version of this Silk dildo is 4 1/2 inches long. Might that work?

I’m a guy of average size (or at least what the internet calls average), and it has never really mattered to me.

R recently bought a realistic dildo (it squirts!) over the internet, and was quite startled by what came in the mail. The thing is -huge-.

Queue a bondage session with my blindfolded girlfriend, who has previously expressed reservations about my size, and was horrified by this thing. I got it out, and after working up to it, inserted – and within short order she had arrived at what was visibly the best orgasm of her life.

Size had always been a nonissue for me, but I do now have a deep desire to be able to do that to her without outside help; I am now insecure where I wasn’t before.

Some kinds of orgasms require props, much like some sports need specific equipment. She’s never going to give you a prostate orgasm with just her pussy, for instance, unless she has a genuinely singular anatomy.

The thing is, you gave her the best orgasm of her life while using an inanimate object. Now go tell Lance Armstrong he’s a loser because his bike’s doing all the work.

I could be happy with my sex life even if I never penetrated my wife again, as long as she still used the strap-on on me. There is nothing like a prostate orgasm. If you’re too uncomfortable with your sexuality to try it, I pity you.

Prostate orgasms are reportedly so awesome that I can really only curse my horrible luck being born a woman and try to content myself with the six or seven types of orgasms I actually get to have.

Also, I sincerely hope your wife is as into strap-on play as you are if you ever seriously consider making that your only sexual staple.

Last Friday I fucked this girl I’ve been scheming on. It wasn’t very good and afterwards I wished I hadn’t. She had a thin-lipped pussy, which I thoroughly licked (licked, not LIKED, as I like pussies with big fat flappy lips). She required that I wear a condom and then didn’t even blow me afterwards. She hadn’t fucked in 3 yrs, so now of course she is all in love and shit, even though prior to fucking she just said all she wanted was a hard cock, not a boyfriend.

In point of fact, this girl is smart to insist on a condom. Your sexual health benefits from it as does hers. But you probably already know that.

Good luck finding lusher lips, my friend.

I was just diagnosed with cancer and for the first time it truly depresses me that I may die a virgin… and soon. The closest I ever came was sending a woman(?) I “met” online a photo of my dick, and she said it was “a perfect cock”. I printed out that chat transcript and kept it folded up in my wallet for months.

I’m so sorry you’re dealing with this illness. I sincerely wish you a speedy and decisive recovery, and plenty of fucking in the immediate and distant future for you and your perfect cock!

Do you have a confession?

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Laramy and I were lounging with Viola on her bed, and somehow the conversation came around to blowjobs. Already your shock is palpable.

We came to a consensus that however fun it is to give and receive them, they’re particularly good as a warmup for intercourse. This is how Laramy and I do them about two-thirds of the time, probably. But not always. I also love those times when I get to make him come.

Penis-in-vagina/ass intercourse is unique for me because it feels like we’re making us come¹, giving each other simultaneous and reciprocal pleasure. Sure, I normally get to have more orgasms, so maybe my partner feels differently, but I round up to Team Us. Most of the many fantastic and varied other kinds of sex tend to have less of that particular “simultaneous and reciprocal” element for me. They can still be awesome, of course.

I can get off just from giving a blowjob, but that’s a completely different feeling than climaxing through intercourse. The stimulation is less direct, largely mental. When I come that way it feels more like I’m really bringing myself there, although I’m getting some of my favorite sort of help with that.

Laramy, on the other hand, once told me he generally doesn’t get off from blowjobs at all. Liked them, he insisted, certainly wasn’t planning on turning any eligible offers down, but he just didn’t come from oral sex. He said this after the first time I made him come in my mouth, though. Surely he was rearranging his belief system by then. Because I’ve never known him to lie to me, I see no reason to think that it was just a line to make me feel like a god damn sexual Tyrannasaurus, although it did. Oh, it did.

Anyway, back to Viola’s bed. There are limits, she are I both agreed, on just how long we’re willing to suck cock. At a certain point you wonder what you’re doing wrong, and why your jaw needs to be punished for it. Perhaps we were making my boyfriend nervous. While Laramy can and does come from blowjobs, he admittedly tends to take a while to get there sometimes. This is part of why it can be preferable² to just transition to fucking. “It’s not like I take that long,” he reminded me.

“No,” I agreed. “Sometimes it can be a challenge, though. It’s not like I can get you off in, say, four minutes or something.”

That’s when Laramy started to remove his pants. Enthusiastically. “Let’s see!”

“I mean, I’ll suck your cock for four minutes, sure. Happy to. But I doubt you’ll get off.”

“You’re on,” he grinned. The pants were off, the penis rampant, the challenge accepted. One doesn’t say “I’ll suck your cock for four minutes” to this man and expect him to laugh it off. Viola offered to time us. Laramy reclined on her bed, pants abandoned, head in her lap.

“All right then!” I probably didn’t say out loud, “I came here to suck cock and chew bubblegum, and luckily for your cock, I’m all out of bubblegum. Because otherwise, ouch.” My eye was of the tiger. Four minutes wasn’t long, but I was going to do my damnedest to make sure it was long enough.

I’d never strategized a blowjob before. Would a little preliminary teasing help or harm the cause? Should I mostly suck and bob, or concentrate more on doing that thing with my tongue? I did my best. Laramy might have been playing with some Viola boob.

“It’s interesting to watch from this perspective. This is what I’d see if QP were giving me a blowjob,” I heard her say³. He was getting close at this point.

When Laramy came in my mouth, I got that little jolt of triumph I always get, even when we’re not going for the four-minute blowjob title. Giver of Orgasms and Swallower of Seed am I, and mighty shall be my reign! Rawr, bitches.

“How was that for time?” I asked Viola in an all-business tone as soon as the cock was out of my mouth. Laramy, still blissed out from his orgasm, found this hilarious.

“Just about four and a half minutes. I was going to stop you, but I knew he was getting close.” High fives happened all around. We hadn’t quite made blowjob history, but it was hard to call it anything but a win, considering.

Between you and me, though? I probably would’ve gone longer, if need be. You know, for the team.

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1. I’ve heard rumors that you can have sex without having or even trying to have an orgasm, and that it can be splendid. I honestly wouldn’t know anything about that. Sex without any orgasms seems like a frustrating endeavor to me. [↩]
2. For my jaw and inside upper lip. [↩]
3. Note to self: remind her that I willingly service strap-on cocks as well. [↩]

I don’t know if it’s sheer laziness or a priceless secret I must have known at one point but forgot, but lately my favorite way to masturbate is through my underwear, strumming my clit with the very tip of one finger. Back and forth: the soft smooth flesh and then my short, rounded nail, and back again through cotton. Delicious.

It is profoundly stupid how quickly this gets me off.

I spin through no sexy scenarios in my head, I tweak not my nipples, I employ none of the tricks that sometimes seem necessary when I’m all alone and not particularly turned on. Sometimes it’s a little harder to get off when your motivation is a vague urge that’s frankly first-cousins with boredom. But through my underwear like that, gently but not too gently, nothing else is needed.

It’s easy and comforting and uncomplicated and lets me ride orgasm after orgasm floating between them like a wish, which is exactly the opposite of how I feel about my broken body right now.

And what about my toys? My poor fancy toys, my pretty toys! My buzzy, soft, my steel toys. I love them so, but they’ll get neglected with a vengeance at times. Sometimes I’m just too smitten with my finger to bother with them at all.

It’s strange: sometimes the highest setting on my favorite vibrator just frustrates me, but a gentle strumming through cloth unlocks my entire body.  I can never decide whether my clitoris is too sensitive or not sensitive enough. And compared to what?

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I’ll bet you came here today looking for a ConTuesday. Am I right? It must be destiny because that’s exactly what I have for you.

She suggested out of the blue that we swap with them. Was I that easy to read? Of COURSE I want to swap with them. I’m all in. I’m somewhat sure that our lady friend would be, too.

But our man friend? Not a chance. Even to ask would be to lose that friend.

Dammit. Three out of four is a super-majority!

It’s a truth that can be devastating, or it can appear bright and pulsing with hope and redemption: sexual adventures are really only as good as the most reluctant participant.

Still, yeah. That’s a frustrating predicament.

I’m not the most overpaid person in the world, so when I was going to buy a vibrator this weekend, I sort of set a ceiling of $50. I came away for the shop having dropped $100 and change for a wiggly pink thing. Tried it out with my Significant Other last night and I was practically levitating every time I was racked with orgasms. I’ve come _a lot_, but never like that. What a fine investment! SO was grinning like a jackal every time he pushed me over the edge again. Yummy.

If you don’t mind, is there any way you can provide a link to this wiggly pink thing? Or even a name? This isn’t for me, mind. It’s for science.

Yesterday I discovered that if you make a girl cum for 7-8 times and don’t cum yourself…well….they’re not happy.

One thing that restores my faith in humanity when things are looking dire is the fact that we pretty much all want to give pleasure. We want to make other people laugh and smile and clap and come. I think that’s fucking beautiful.

It’s not your fault if you can’t come, of course. But this is probably the reason behind your discovery.

I’ve recently started really enjoying role playing daddy/girl scenes…the only problem is I can’t enjoy this with my Master because he already has a girl he enjoys this particular kink with, and I would feel like I was trying to take away something that was special and hers. But I don’t want to do this with just anyone. *sighs*

Have you talked to this other girl about it? Because, though it might not be the case here, I could imagine some little girls wanting a sister. Either way, good luck finding someone to explore with.

By the time this posts, it won’t have much meaning considering I’ll know one way or the other. But getting it out there before I know I think is important.

My boyfriend and I fuck like bunnies. We don’t use condoms but I am on the pill. He is very fertile (and has the babies to prove it) and convinced that I am pregnant right now. I’m one day late with my period, but that is just one day. I don’t think I am pregnant, but secretly maybe kinda sorta wish I was. It would be an awful time to get pregnant, but when is it ever a good time?

I’m hoping for an update on this one, and that you’re happy with whichever outcome you got.

Secrets go here!

One of the first survival skills you learn when you have a chronic illness is how to flake out on people. If you go to every social event or honor every commitment, you are sure to run yourself straight into bed for an uninterrupted month. Hope you enjoy bedpans.

Last night I was supposed to go to a friend’s house to help her watch Heathers, which she’d never seen. Now, there is no valid reason I’m aware of to want to miss a showing of Heathers. But I knew if I went I’d pay for it with more pain and exhaustion than I was willing to handle. So survival skill #1 deployed and I flaked.

My friend and the rest of the viewing party decided I was bailing in order to get laid. Not true. I was bailing in order to lie in bed alone, exhausted and pathetic. But there may have been some masturbating.

Indeed, often there’s masturbating. Observe…

I am female and right-hand dominant, but I can only make myself come with my left hand. Isn’t that strange???

My head once fit through a human cervix (admittedly when it was smaller, but still). Nothing should ever really be strange after that.

Sometimes, when I’m having trouble getting motivated to write a paper or clean the house, I’ll just pop in my little dildo, which gets me hot and bothered, and won’t let myself masturbate until I’ve finished my task. I have, however, been interrupted in the process and only realize I forgot to take it out when I sat down on my grandmother’s sofa.

I stand in awe of your ability to focus on writing papers while there’s a dildo inside you. Seriously.

When ever the house is empty, I grab my secret, specially bought electric toothbrush and loudly masturbate until I’m too dizzy to stand.

Sometimes I think electric toothbrushes were created by kind sex sprites in order to make sure no genitalia is left behind in the orgasm wars.

Tonight I felt decadent and I was home alone… I read your blog and got a bit stirred up. I went into the bedroom, put in my vibrator and that felt really nice. But I’ve always craved DP. Then I thought about the dildo in the drawer, and how neglected it has been since I got this crazy-making vibrator. I lubed up the dildo and slid it in my ass and came like nobody’s business. Now I’m sitting, bare-assed back at the computer and drinking a bottle of champagne. I love you, QP. You and your commenters make me so damned horny.

It’s wonderful knowing that I, along with a far-off vibrator and dildo, have made someone’s day a little brighter. Thank you!

There’s something amusing about the fact that lately, sometimes when I orgasm alone my sacrum realigns. I feel powerful when it happens.

If this ever happens to me I’m going to start telling people I have skeletal orgasms.

Understandably, I think, I really hope it happens.

Now, reader, why don’t you tell me something?

I should go see my doctor, and soon. I think my thyroid levels are starting to slip. The major clue is that my indomitable sex drive seems to be, well, domitting¹ a little.

How do I know? Same way the world knows a Uew Boll movie is going to suck: Experience.

Starting about four years ago I stopped having periods for ten months. Once I stopped freaking out over whether or not I was with child, which took at least two or three months, I noticed that my orgasms– usually so delicious, volatile and true– had vanished into thin frustration, and eventually I became pretty much indifferent to having sex at all². Blood tests, when I got around to them, showed that my thyroid hormones were stupid low. It turns out that those are important for non-sexual functions as well. Like, being alive and stuff. Oops.

Recently, my periods have been, to use the technical term, wonky. And my sex drive has seemed a lot more, for lack of a better term, normal. I still want sex. I still masturbate. I’m just less fixated on getting off than I usually am.

Having a lowered sex drive is actually a good thing right now. I don’t see Laramy all that much, so we don’t get a chance to fuck more than a couple times a week. Sex outside of my primary relationship only happens occasionally. I have not yet turned down sex. I wouldn’t even say that I’m entirely satisfied with how much I’m getting, but I’m much more content with my libido this way than the gnawing, snarling sex-hunger I’m used to feeling. It’s comfortable. It’s manageable.

But it’s not healthy. I’m almost sure the cause in an actual medical problem, and I’m fairly certain of what it is. There’s every reason to believe it’s going to get worse if I don’t run the blood tests and adjust my medication as necessary. There’s the actual health stuff to consider, as well as the risk that I might stop having orgasms if I’m not careful. I also don’t feel like me unless I’m a nympho.

If mad horniness is my superpower, kryptonite is happening right now inside my glands. And being the flawed character I am, I’m conflicted about it, but I’m going to do the right thing. For great justice.

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1. Don’t bother looking it up, by the way. It’s not a word. [↩]
2. At least with my boyfriend at the time, honestly. [↩]

Wishes are sometimes confessions. Often, really. For instance, the main reasons I want bigger boobs are so I’ll (a) look better naked and (b) be able to get more attention when I want it. This is not something I’m comfortable going around saying to people, so I just say I want bigger boobs to even out my generous butt. That reason is valid, but it is not entirely truthful.

These ConTuesday confessions are pretty much all less frivolous than that.

9 months after the break up of our short romance, I still sometimes have dreams that he takes me back and everything is right with the world again.

But then you wake up and realize your life is awesome and you’re awesome and anyone willing to let you go is someone you’re better without? I’m hoping.

I think there is something seriously wrong with me!!!! I have only orgasimed with a man once. I can masterbate and hit it on the spot just like that, but you let a man come into the picture and it ain’t happening. Oh sure the sex is great but no orgasim. I have changed positions, added toys, and even told the guys how to do it. I don’t know what else to do, so I enjoy the sex, I come home, masturbate, and have the most intense orgasims. What is wrong with me???

Nothing is wrong with you. This is a very common situation, as I understand it. Maybe it’s the mental distraction of having someone else there. Perhaps the pressure of feeling like you need to have an orgasm to satisfy your partner’s expectations is bogging you down. Perchance it’s the fact that even if you tell someone just what to do with a toy, their technique won’t be exactly the same as yours. Have you tried just masturbating in front of a partner? If you haven’t, that might be a good start. If you’ve tried that and it hasn’t worked out the way you want, maychance try masturbating while having phone sex with your partner as an introduction to sharing your orgasms with him.

Keep in mind that you’re capable of giving yourself orgasms, so that’s great in and of itself, seeing as you’re a person interested in having them.

I want a hysterectomy more than anything. There is no medical reason to get one. I hate my uterus though – it is an organ with entirely oppositional goals to mine, and I do not identify as female and having it makes me feel alienated from my body. But I am terrified of losing my uterine orgasms – this must the joke of the cruelest gods, to make one organ both responsible for my greatest joy and greatest fear.

You didn’t ask for advice, and I am in no way qualified to give you any, but I want to say I cannot imagine how difficult this dilemma must be, and I’m sorry you’re facing it.

I want my lover to be poly-compatible more than I want just about anything else. I love her deeply and she’s practically perfect, but so matter how happy we are together, no, she’s NOT enough. It isn’t that anything is wrong with her, it’s the fact that she’s just one person. I can never make her understand that if she can’t understand open relationships. It’s hopeless. I can either lose the love of my life or stay with her unfulfilled. How does one choose?

Monogamy vs. polyamory is a relationship/sexual orientation (and yes, there are people who swing both ways as well). More and more I’m convinced that it has more to do with how one is wired than what one is able to understand, or how evolved one is, or how badly one wants to be the other orientation. If your orientation is definitely poly and hers is definitely mono (and demanding of monogamy, because some people stay monogamous and very happily let their partners practice polyamory, and that’s one solution), it seems to me that neither of you has a great deal of choice in the matter.

That being said, maybe buying her a book wouldn’t hurt. No pressure, mind, just a free book and the polite request that she do you a favor by reading it and discussing it with you.

Good luck!

Want to confess something? Preferably something related to sex, relationships, or how you have a giant crush on me? Please go here and spill it!

 

ConTuesday has arrived! Prepare yourself to read some confessions because they’re coming at you in 3…2…1…

My darkest fantasy: My girlfriend dumps me for another guy, or I walk in on her having sex with another guy (or really any other variant on that theme)

Then through some twist of circumstances, I am at her mercy, and she forces me to give him oral sex or clean up after he finishes on her after making me watch (or really any other variant on that theme)

I have never really felt betrayed, and I wonder whether I fantasize that way because it’s such a reversal of the way my life actually goes, or whether I’ve never felt betrayed in my life because it couldn’t possibly live up to my wildest expectations of betrayal.

This kind of cuckold fantasy is pretty common. I tend to think the human mind and human sexuality are too complex to necessarily be able to explain the things that turn us on, but when has that ever stopped anyone? And seriously, why should it?

I just engaged in a solo session out of literally nowhere in which I suddenly discovered that vaginal walls are really sensitive if you press them from the outside kinda through the outer labia, damn near fisted myself somehow, and finished by jacking off with a Nexus and imagining it was my own dick.It was so awesome I have to tell someone. I am bursting with weird excitement, here. But my girlfriend’s at work and nobody else I know wants to hear about that. So I’m just telling EVERYONE indiscriminately through the power of ConTuesday.(I kinda needed it too…as-yet undiagnosed chronic pain conditions and holidays and periods and back spasms really don’t mix. But damn, if I don’t feel fucking amazing for just right now.)

Indiscriminate relation of mindblowing fapping sessions: one of the many purposes gladly, giddily served by ConTuesday.

I hope your health issues are better now, or at least diagnosed and getting treatment.

Also, I’m trying that pressure-through-the-labia thing, so help me.

When I masturbate I pretty much always swallow my own semen. Sometimes the whole lot, sometimes just a little. I equate it with biting my nails…

This totally reminds me of something that should probably be a confession itself because it’s sort of weird and I don’t want everyone to judge me. But whatever.

I once (years ago) formulated a plan to induce lactation on myself and see how long I could just live off my own breastmilk. I probably would’ve tried to go through with it, too, if it weren’t for the fact that I’d have had to wake myself up in the middle of the night to pump in order to get the milk flowing, if it even worked at all. I must’ve been so super bored back then.

This has next to nothing to do with the semen eating thing, which strikes me as a much nicer habit than nail-biting, really.

There’s a woman I really like. She has an amazing heart. And she’s the best kisser I’ve ever kissed. But she also has saggy folds of flesh that I’ve never encountered in a date before. Not fatter than I’ve seen, but droopier. And it bothers me. I can sort of see past it, but looking at her doesn’t have the effect on me that either of us would prefer.

There’s another woman I’m dating. She has a great body. In my heart it seems like she’s much too pretty to be interested in me. Objectively, I can tell that’s not true, I’m a handsome man and she’s not the prettiest woman to have hit on me by a long way. But I’m so insecure that deep down I can’t accept her interest at face value, and I have trouble getting close to her.

BTW, both girlfriends know that there are other women but not anything about them

I guarantee you that there are people out there who will be attracted to Woman #1′s body just as it is, as well as her heart, all while appreciating her amazing kissing prowess. Offhand I’d say she probably deserves exactly that. I think everyone deserves someone who’s genuinely attracted to them rather than someone who’s just overlooking their appearance. Maybe that’s naive. I also don’t care.

The thing that strikes me most about this confession, however, is that I have no idea if Woman #2 has a damn thing to offer besides a hot body. I think everyone deserves someone who’s genuinely attracted to them rather than someone who’s just interested in their conventionally hot appearance.

Hopefully you’re one of the good someones for one (or both, if you’re poly) of them. If not, don’t beat yourself up. You don’t owe anyone your attraction. In that case, I hope you move on and find the right person/s for you.

Have a sexy confession? Submit to me!

Last year I did a whole list of sexual resolutions. In a textbook QP move, I pretty much forgot about them as soon as I typed them. I did, however, accidentally adhere to a few of them. Let’s check them out one by one, because there’s no possible way that could be demoralizing for me!

1. Flirt with strangers: This one still sounds like fun, and I still don’t do it, except sometimes by accident. I barely even make eye contact with people on my bad days. So FAIL.
2. Initiate sex with my boyfriend: Not. Really. I think I did that all of once, then we got interrupted in the middle of fucking and I felt like a loser. FAIL.
3. Admit when I’m attracted to someone: I’m getting much better at this, though I’m still not at the point where I admit to that person. DEMIWIN.
4. Fulfill three new sexual fantasies: I’ve had a fuck-ton of fucking fun this year. I had a lot of great sex. I discovered that Laramy is awesome at spanking. I got to have a foursome and a FMF threesome (both featuring the earth-shatteringly hot Rowan and Viola Sharqtipus, with my sexy Laramy in the former), but I’d have liked to have been more proactive and adventurous in general. Still, WIN. And you would totally agree if you saw the pretties I got to play with.
5. Perform in a drag show: I did this. I need to remember to tell you about it. It was amazing. WIN. So much win.
6. Try out new sex toys! With an emphasis on sharing toys with others. While naked: I tried a few new toys. I still suck at bringing them into partner play. DEMIWIN? I guess?
7. Feel okay wearing the sexy stuff in front of partners: FAIL. Just fail. I’ve realized, though, that Laramy couldn’t care less if I wear sexy underwear (he seems to think that lingerie is a superfluous middleman between clothed and naked), though he does appreciate when I wear clothes that prove I have boobies.

So, considering that I didn’t really maintain the eye of the tiger on these, at all, not a super bad showing.

Upon rereading these, I realized that most of 2010′s resolutions dealt with insecurities, which is pretty fair. So this year I’m going to keep it very, very simple and just work on confidence. In I’m going to start thinking I’m awesome or die faking it.

Damn, this is going to be hard.

Do you have any New Year’s Resolutions that involve orgasms in some way, shape or form? Or even if they don’t, I’m always curious. You can even tell me anonymously if you like.

Happy New Year! I hope this year is far better than the last for each and every one of you.

Last night, in the middle of an otherwise satisfying fap, I realized with not inconsiderable horror that it’s been I-don’t-even-know-how-long since the last time I squirted. It must be months. Months and months. One hell of a lot of months, at least.

There was a time in my life when I could barely use a vibrator for fifteen seconds without my pussy producing an enthusiastic dribble, and threatening much more. That time is gone, apparently, at least for the time being, and now I need to apply more time and attention in order to ruin my sleeping arrangements with puddles. Which really is probably for the best from a logistics standpoint because I need my beauty rest and prefer it non-soggy, all else being equal. Female ejaculation can be such a polarizing subject, even if we’re just talking about my brain.

But I miss those geyserly orgasms. They were so intense, so joyous. Of course a woman can have an amazing sex life if she never ejaculates, or even thinks about it. There are manifold ways to get off, and no single physical mechanism of orgasm is objectively better than any other. They’re created equal, like mankind. But also like mankind, once you get to know and love an individual in that created-equal group, you get attached and would miss it if it were to move to Jakarta.

So here I am in the Western Hemisphere realizing that I just don’t have the grit these days to hike to Jakarta every time I take my pants off.

Squirting, come home. I would like to have to lay down double-thick towels more often, and then maybe curse you when you ignore them and soak right through. Those were the days.