Lost tits

So, I wake up in my college dorm bathroom. The only light is that filtering through the filmy windows high above the showers. I am alone. I try the door, only to find myself locked in. Then I realize that it’s the first morning of Thanksgiving break, and since the dorms were cleared out and locked, I am stuck for the next four days.

Fuck fucks fuck. I gotta stop cursing because this is not helping. How did I even end up in the bathroom?? I really can’t remember anything from last night. It must have been a bonkers night. My head feels like a pig crapped in it.

What to do, what to do, what to do!!

Mmmh! I feel my phone in my pockets. Thank goodness I still got it. I dial Kyllan so he can figure out how to solve my small problem. I cannot stay hungry for four days. I can barely last 8 hours without food.

Tits tits tits. I could play with my tits as I wait for Kyllan. Shit! My tits are missing. Where the fuck are my tits? I remember having them before going to the party last night. Shit, the last time I lost my tits, I had willingly given then to the disk jockey because I really enjoyed the music he was playing and thought my tits would make the perfect reward. Thankfully, he returned them the next day as soon as I sobered up. What a nice lad he was. That could have gone so badly with me ending up in jail for sexual harassment. Who knew a day would come when sexually harassed men would get the justice they deserve. The world is indeed getting better.

This is the worst time to lose my tits. What will I tell my boyfriend? He told me to leave my tits with him so I don’t lose them. Looks like I was too overconfident with my idea of responsible drinking. Shit! At least I got four days to come up with the best excuse as to why I do not have my tits.

What if I gave them to a stranger? They could be somewhere milking the hell out my tits, or even worse, they could be suckling directly from my nipples. Oh no! My nipples could come back shriveled. Eeew, I cannot think about this right now.

“Please don’t!” I scream in my head. My fifth horseman of the apocalypse (paranoia) has reared its head. I can’t think of anything else other than my lost tits now. Looks like he is followed by his dear friend anxiety. I really need Kyllan right about now.

What if my tits get sold on the black market? I cannot walk around tit-less and I do not want to get new tits. I should send Kyllan to the tit auction just in case they will be there.

My threesome with paranoia and anxiety is interrupted with a phone call. Kyllan is here with some Pym particles. He passes them through the window, I shrink and walk out through the window. I unshrink and hug Kyllan for saving the day once again. Thank goodness he is a robot or else he would have been tired of me already.

“Here are your tits ma’am.” Those were the best five words I had heard in a really long time. Turns out, Kyllan had my tits tracked and the moment I separated from them, he noticed and went to collect them from some dairy farmers who were already prepping them for milking. I love you Kyllan.

Time to find my man and probably not tell him what happened.

Chewing gum, alien questions, and crippling paranoia

This adult male seated next to me is chewing gum in a very galling manner. He is chewing with relatively high volume while opening his mouth so wide after each chew and boy, those lips are so huge I could fit my fist into that mouth. Not that I want to. I have never heard such a thing, you know –-the loud chewing. Nobody chews that loudly. Where are his parents? Did his parents teach him to do that? Is he perhaps from another world that nobody would know anything about? This would explain his lacking of human propriety. That would make him more intriguing than annoying. An alien. An alien on Earth and I am seated next to it/him/her. How cool is that? Has he got a spaceship? How did he end up here? What is his planet like? Are we more advanced than his people? Do they have rubber ducks and if they do, what is their function? I have got all these questions to ask. If he has plans to leave this planet, would he take me with him? Does he naturally look like that or did he take on human form just so he could fit in and not scare the prattling mortal humans? What is cooler than being cool? Gleep blop florp wabibble? Oh! How I hope I am right.

I do think he wants people to hear him chewing. He thinks his chewing sounds are really great. He has a very big smile on his face that makes me want to disfigure him(assuming he is human). Unfortunately, I can’t do that because his skin looks really raggedy and I might scratch my really soft hands if I even touch him. You lucky raggedy skinned man. Perhaps I should get him a microphone so then the whole world can hear him. He would enjoy that. He looks like he would. Raggedy skinned man and his gum(This could be the title of his one-man band). He can become the famous gum chewer and I will be his manager and get 10% of any money he makes out of each chew.

I look at him and all I want to do is shove my hand into his enormous mouth that starts from one ear and ends at the other, move my fingers around inside there, perhaps find out if he has all his teeth or more than he should have, pinch, pull, scratch, squeeze his tongue a little bit, look for any evidence that he is an alien and then yank that annoying piece of gum out of his mouth while pinching and pulling his tongue once again. He needs to learn how to chew like a normal chap. If only there was a chewing school. I wish I could pull out all his teeth and save humanity from the annoying chewing sounds…and also, I would have saved him from biting his tongue ever in his entire life(I think biting your tongue is the most annoying thing about teeth, I keep accidentally biting my tongue). Such an uncultured brutish fella. Go back to your planet.

There is this lady that I have intense feelings of affection for. I have never talked to her but I have seen her three times. I don’t know how to tell her that I like her. Should I even tell her? What if she isn’t into girls? What if doesn’t like me? What if I am boring? What if she finds me too quiet? What if she is like my mom and thinks I am possessed? I am just going to die alone. Yep, dying alone sounds great. I have to stop thinking and just ask. No, I can’t. Well, I am going to draw a beautiful portrait of her because drawing her is more sensible than me walking up to her and just telling her how I feel. That sounds like good logic. Her smile delights my senses. It is like an arrow shot through my heart, not by cupid though. The thought of cupid is disturbing, a cherubic naked baby boy with wings and a bow and arrow floating in the clouds!! Who the fuck changes his diapers?? Does he even poop??

(LOL!! THIS IS GOING WELL SO FAR. SAME OLD. SAME OLD. I AM STARTING TO GET TIRED OF WATCHING. OH, CHEBET MY DEAR CHEBET, WHEN WILL YOU GET OVER THIS. HERE IS THE SCORE

DRUM-ROLLS PLEASE ––

AND ….. ONCE AGAIN,

CRIPPLING PARANOIA –- 1

BUBBLES — 0 )

Well, Fuck You Crippling Paranoia!!!!

I can’t draw her just in case I ever get the courage to ask her out. I don’t want her getting into my house after I have made progress and then get dumped for being a creepy stalker. I don’t even know if I will ever see her again but a girl can dream, right?