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a 34 year old guy, living in the basement of mommy and daddies house . PISSSST off at the world because HE's the fuckup and has pathetiy taken on the personna of what HE thinks is a powerful woman to help him get over his pitiful existence soooo sad

she'll use you again clear and simple. last 3, 6, 10 months, but all the while behind her smile is a user loser, knows youll chose her. cuz youre weak enough to wear down after Married housewives looking hot sex sexy wife some good head and bed. once she has you orgasmiy wrapped around her panties, then the favors seem to naturally flow from your wallet and your time. you met up with her in a motel, and left her a twinkie on your way out AND THE USED CONDOM was rinsed out or disposed of away from her. they are dependent on your insecurity and need for or what you feel in your pants. "bigger better deal" she'll put your heart in a blender and hit "FRA-Pe" (FRA-PAY) then youre left alone either broke or near enough, questioning your skills and intelligence while she swipes her copy (you had no idea she ordered) of your atm card one last time knowing youre a ball of tears curled up on the couch her dog ruined. whining "whhy? whyy god, why me? again?! just then the apt super opens your door hearing what he thought was cats being microwaved to death. and happens to be sweet on you and you know youve always wondered how he got that stink from hardly working and just how do those pants fit that way to ALWAYS show his crack. curious you let him take you in his strong sweaty arms and you like a bride to his cavern apt. filled with hair band posters and gallon jugs of industrial cleaners and lubricants. his cavern looks so familiar and then you realize he is the one always picking up everybodys discards. now a thought in your head: does he have my old scooby doo drawers? surprise: he's confessed and proceeds to offer to model them while you just wondered what gooey thing you sat in on the couch you saw on the curb that one day. it had been gutted by a search, how could you forget that? watching the melee from your porch hoping that dude doesnt front on you for buying that one time and bitching like a girl about the quality later, after youve smoked it all. flash back to the moment: do you A; stop him from undoing his belt not 2 feet from your face to model your old scooby snacks? or B: close your eyes and pray he knows lube should be sterile for internal use? or C: take the cyanide pill you bought two of to pact suicide with that girl who just left you for buffalo on-it?