Monday, June 26, 2006

I Love Me

One weekend about every two months I don’t go out. This isn’t because I don’t want to, it’s because I just physically can’t. I’ll try to drink on a Friday or a Thursday night, and it just doesn’t work - I’ll immediately start to feel like shit, get all sorts of indigestion, and shut down. I can’t explain this phenomenon, and it’s terrifying, because it’s so unpredictable. I live in a state of constant fear, hoping my “down weekend” doesn’t strike when friends are in town, or I have a party to go to, or by some mistake on god’s part I have a date, etc. [But mostly I fret about the friends in town or party thing, not the date.]

This was the case this past weekend. The good news is that it coincided with a weekend that most of my friends were out of town, so I was left alone to defile myself in the friendly confines of my home. I am a big believer in numbers, and I work with them all day long, so here are two statistics that accurately sum up my weekend:

Number of pornographic films previously downloaded to my computer: 44
Number of pornographic films currently downloaded to my computer: 61

When I say that I have never been so focused in my life than I was about downloading porn this weekend, it is not an understatement. I worked so hard at it, you’d think I was trying to save a crew of astronauts trapped in space, or desperately working on an antidote to a poison recently ingested by my entire extended family. Imagine me, sitting in my small, dark room, wearing just boxers and an undershirt, watching literally hundreds of porno clips, featuring old faves like Celeste, Chasey Lain, Jenna Jameson, and Kylie Ireland, while learning about new starlets, such as Sunrise Adams, Briana Banks, and Kira Kener.

It was incredible. My every movement this weekend was based around the rates that the clips were downloading; whether they were mpegs, wmvs, or avis; whether I had already downloaded them but they were named something else; etc. Showers and meals were timed after the right number of films came off the queue and were mostly downloaded.

And the self-love was, to say the least, near legendary. My previous high for one day’s masturbation is seven, set back when I was about 14. This Saturday, I was at six at about 3pm, when I thought to myself, “Do I really want to tie, or perhaps set, a new masturbatory record at 30 years old? Isn’t that kind of pathetic?” So I decided to pull in the reins and call it a day. But I’ll tell you, I easily could have done ten. Easily.

And that was pretty much my weekend. When I’m not poisoning myself with liquor, I’m beating my dick like it owes me money. But I don’t think this should be too much of an impediment in my quest for a girlfriend/wife. After all, I have an engagement ring fund, and I probably don’t have any STD’s. What more could a woman want?

Jeez!

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