I NEED TO REPLACE MY GIRLFRIEND
In the car when I want to listen to Stern.
Forget watching O’Reilly Factor, I get the Donna factor.
Sleep in till 8am, not when Donna gets up at 5:00 am.
At work, she likes to call 5 times a day.
On the computer, She got my email address!
I can’t get away. Now she is dropping the L-bomb on me after 30 days and getting way too comfortable with me. Not 30 day behavior… not 30 month behavior. I am ready to move out of state.
Yesterday Morning 05:00hrs (5am)
I cuddled snug and warm in my bed with lovely dreams of sugarplumbs prancing in my head.
The bitch comes bursting in the room screaming and throwing the lights on. I shoot straight up wide-awake from a deep sleep. Pair of sweat pants comes flying at my head and without even thinking I grab them and fling them on. “What happened!” I think someone died or someone is crawling through a window or Jesus himself is sitting on the couch.
“There’s bug in my bathroooooom!!!” She screams all dramatic.
I flung the pants off on to the dresser, said something nasty, and tried to go back to bed with a racing heart. I should have thrown that bug on her.
The Last Straw
I’m taking a hot steamy shower last night. Trying to enjoy the hot water and relative peace only a hot shower can provide. Donna is the bathroom yammering about work or something. Unconsciously, I just say “uh huh, really, that sucks, get out of here” while secretly just trying to enjoy my shower. But I can’t enjoy. My eardrums are bleeding. Every time this girl walks into the room my ear drums recoil like a puppy that’s about to get hit.
“but that’s not MY job. I told the bitch that yesterday. You make your own copies…”
Then something strange happened. My eyes started to water. My face started to cringe and the temperature just raised ten degrees. I was getting dizzy and nauseous all at the same time. I stepped back from the hot steamy water and my knees buckled! As I opened the curtain the room rotated in slow motion on its axis as the walls breathed it was like acid flashback gone bad. The pungent aroma of ammonia, eggs and dead chicken choked me. Her voice melted into low toned, inaudible, blur.
“Maaaaaaaake yourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ownnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn coppieessssssssssss”
I started to panic. I think I’m dying. The bitch has done it. She FINALLY talked me to death. Then a light went off in my head. I’m not dying…
“Did you just break wind in here?”
“Yea Sorry. Anyway, so I told my boss I am not the devtel.net slave anymore…”
Yea sorry? The bitch made my knees buckle! This was no normal gas. This was chemical weapons quality. Saddam Hussein himself would be like “Don’t use that shit, thats just wrong” The fucked up part is that if you know that your gas is that potent, wouldn’t leave a small enclosed area to do it. She has known me for a month, how can she be that comfortable? I don’t even take shits when she around never mind drop bombs like that. If we were married for a year and she did that I would get a divorce. Judge would be like “That sick bitch did WHAT!” But this doesn’t occur to her.
“You know I can’t have sex with you anymore”
“Yes you will anyway about work...”
I Tried But I Can’t Do It
It just keeps staring at me. I am trying to fuck this girl doggy-style but I can’t stay hard. It just keeps looking at me. I can’t concentrate. All I can think about is the little red Cyclops asshole looking at me. It’s like that burning evil red-eye of Sauron in Lord of the Rings. There’s no getting away. Where ever I go it can see me.
“Fuck me harder, harder, your so good, I luvvvv you”
My dick getting softer, I can’t perform. I look down. It’s still there.
“Harder, Harder, fuck me, harder, oh baby”
She wants me to fuck her harder? What if something bad happens? I am kind of afraid to be pushing on her down there now. Those intestines are probaly brewing something horrible right now. Her ass is pointing right at me. It’s like looking down the barrel of a gun with Michael J Fox on the trigger.
I give her one big thrust. The bed jerks and makes loud chirp. I leap from her like a soldier diving on a grenade. I didn’t know whether I should stop drop and roll or hide under the desk like a WWII bomb drill.
“It was just the bed silly”
I wasn’t taking chances.
Please save me.