dear_mun | (no subject)

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All right, mate, now you look here. I put up with a lot of shit, and I do mean a lot, but... no. Just no. That is really going too far. Here. Here is a line. I'm drawing one, in the sand, and you... you my friend, you aren't going to cross it. You got that?

I mean, come on. Have you really thought this through? Think about it. Are you really ready to reduce a man of my complexities to a game? 'Cause I have to tell you, I don't think you are. No offence, or anything, but you just aren't there yet. You haven't even thought what colour you want me label yet, whatever that means. Let alone anything else.

Now, all right, I know you're pretty set on all this, but there's no need for you to get upset over it. Unlike you, I've been thinking. I've come up with a compromise. How about that, then?

So, here's the deal. You get to apply the whiny little bastard who lives inside me, and I stay right where I am. That's more than fair, I reckon. Less pressure on the both of us, in't there?

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Now, look, mate. Just because I can afford good quality deodorant and you can't, there is no need for you to take it out on me.

I smell lovely. If you want to get a good whiff of me armpits to prove it, I'm more than happy to accommodate.

That's fucked up, man. I'm good. I didn't realise they made lynx out of stale puss.

They don't. They make it out of that African shit, don't they? That's why s'called Lynx Africa.

Sort of smells like... [He's not actually sure, so he sniffs his pits himself. Then pulls a disgusted face.] Eurgh. Okay, so maybe I forgot to put it on this morning. But normally I do, and the smell... it's intoxicating. It's like them ads, in't it? I can't get all them girls off me.

Right. African shit. Literally.

I can see that becoming problematic.

No, like the shit you say when you don't really know what they're putting in it. Like... bolognese, or something. Who knows what they make that out of?

Never said it were problematic, did I? I quite like being covered in girls. So long as it's not too many of 'em, 'cause then you can't get your cock back up in time to deal with all of them.

Right. Chemicals A, B, C, and flowers grown out of elephant feces. African elephants, hence the name.

And that's where the problem arises. Or doesn't, in your case. But I think they make medication for that, you might want to look into it.

Still smells better than Irish BO, and that's saying something. I could probably smell you a mile off.

Hey. Hey, now. There is not need to get rude. I could handle at least five girls on me own, and then I've got me other self if they're ugly enough to subject them to him. I really don't think I need any help from viagra, or whatever else thy have to keep it up all the while.

That's a matter of opinion, mate. It draws the ladies in like a siren's call.

It's probably more like you and your other self wearing a wig and a bit of make up spending a very lonely night together after way too many drinks. But we'll go with the orgy thing, why not. If that's what makes you feel better.

Does it still count as masturbation if you're doing the other you?

Sends them running, more like.

No. No. Under ordinary circumstances, I would love to fuck meself. I'm a beautiful man, and even as a complete heterosexual I have to say I do fancy meself a bit. But if you'd seen me other self, you'd know he's just far too whiny to be around and maintain enough of an erection. You'll be luck if you can get it half mast.

To each their own.

Maybe you should gag him. Then you'd be set.

Could try that, but then he'd just moan at me after. Something about needing consent...

You're a fucking hero, man.

For putting up with him? I should bloody well think so.

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