Correct me if I’m wrong,

but it seems too many guys I know have admitted to something that sickens me a little: sharing a bed with a female friend, then finding themselves feeling her up when they think she’s asleep.

Well, it used to sicken me a little, but now it straight-up disgusts me.

What makes someone think girls are toys when they’re not awake? What the fuck kinda coward’s move is it? Apparently, the kinda coward who says this: “Actually, it’s not rape, she hasn’t had the chance to say no and it’s not like you’re hurting her.” Then, laughter. Is getting a boner over a rag doll supposed to be an achievement? The fact that you’re near a girl and misinterpret her so much that you think “oh, she won’t mind, but only if I’m careful.” means you are not my friend. It means YOU ARE SCUM. Cunt-faced scum.

To some, I may be over-reacting, but I’d like to see how you’d hold up in the same situation.
The details aren’t worth going on about, but I’ll say… that’s the only panic-attack I’ve been pleased with after the fact. I panic-attacked him. And this (I love how humour comes out despite being fucking terrified) – “One more of WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT WAS and you’ll be getting the sexiest concussion. And you’ll be blowing snot-bubbles as Big Sal’s limp-fisted little bitch in the pokey. GOD DAMN YOU, JUDAS.” I’d like to say violence had no place in this, but it did. The element of surprise was all I had and it was all I needed.

Ugh. I’m so tired. And I feel dirty. Oh, well. Just another instance of sorting the wheat from the chaff as far as the people I surround myself with. I don’t feel I’ve lost somebody when they’ve already proven themselves to be a piece of shit.
This day is turning into one pressurised, lengthy exhale, and I’d like to do something about it.

I’m too angry with humans, at least for now, so I’m gonna go hang with some animals. The kind who don’t try to bury bones in creepy ways.

[Pigeons were the final verdict, because they’re all over town square and I like the way they walk. And nobody approaches the pigeon-feeding-ladies; everybody knows they’re off their fucking rockers, right? Shiny-sided strutting, though… If you squint, you can pretend like they’re wearing waistcoats. Flying squires. I bet I could make a tiny monocle out of a contact lens and a locket chain. More crumbs, STAT. See? Sane as hell.]


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