Of Dry Spells And A Sex Starved Bachelor..

It’s chilly outside, nipples everywhere…big nipples, small nipples, stubborn nipples, submissive nipples…nipples everywhere. You sitting on the balcony, wondering what wrong you did to God, where did the rain start beating you? Where did the dry spell start beating you…you’re so sexually starved that you have an orgasm at anything, you even have an orgasm anytime you yawn.

People are in their houses, making love, making sex, making babies and all those things that people make when making those funny sex sounds. But you’re just sitting on the balcony all alone, sitting on the balcony, wondering what wrong you did to God, when was the last time you had actual sex. You see girls with small boobs dressed in those deep vneck tshirts trying to expose whatever cleavage God planted there. But then again seriously, dear girls-with-small-boobs, when you dress in those t-shirts trying to expose whatever small cleavage God planted there, what are you trying to expose in the first place, your dry chest or something? If you got no cleavage, why show us your chest, If you got no car, why open a garage?

Its almost three months since you had sex, any type of sex; good sex, bad sex, bed sex, carpet sex, phone sex and by phone sex I mean using the phone in the sex act, not just sending those horny texts and nudes via sms, whatsapp, mms or whatever means of communication you use depending on the age of texting you belong to…damn you haven’t even had plane sex, but then you remember you have never been on any plane in your entire life. You wonder why you have never been on a plane; even snakes have been on a plane. But anyway, aisulu! You still got a lot of years before you hit menopause and by then you shall have had sex with almost anyone or anything that moves. Okay not anything, you aint Vera Sidika…but either way you shall have had sex to your fullest potential, and probably wanked off a lot too that your dick shall have your fingerprints printed all over. The dry spell has bitten so hard that you’re even thinking of calling classic FMs Maina Kageni for a hookup. The nigga is like a woman trapped in a man’s body, the male version of Njoki Chege or something. He always has answers to almost everything, he probably even knows where Khaligraph Jones picked that fake accent, or even where 2Pac has been hiding all these years.

It has taken you a while to realize this, but slowly it’s dawning on you; cupid is dead, yeah, hit by a mad truck crossing the Thika Superhighway. His fat diapered ass splattered all over the windshield as the mogoka intoxicated driver ran over the last remains of his love-shaped skull. Okay that’s gross, way too gross. But again it aint that gross, not as gross as having your heart torn apart from the inside out (even me I don’t know what being torn apart inside out means, I’m just playing with words, throwing in a verb here, a noun there, an adjective and another verb then you get a sophisticated sentence enough to make someone believe that I know what am saying…yet in real sense we all know am as clueless as Ben Carson when he declared his interest in running for the US presidency. The nigga doesn’t even know where his forefathers came from; he claims to be a descendant of some Turkana great grandfather when we all know that he can’t even pronounce the silent letter R in Turkana. Okay stop trying to pronounce Turkana without the R, it’s not silent. See, again am just playing with words here. Reminds me of some time back when i was seven years old, I watched two rabbits kiss and they kissed for so long that I think I actually got a mild erection. Yeah it was mild coz i didn’t even know what was happening to me, I just saw some small lump down there and ran to my mum crying.

But cupid is dead, something in your mind is telling you to start dating exclusively older women…you know, they never get pregnant, won’t get pregnant and can’t get pregnant. So you won’t have to spend money on those Postinor2 tabs or CD. Nature and menopause have taken care of that already. But then that’s just a temptation, dating older women is wrong; it’s the devil tempting you. And you dislike the devil, a lot. You dislike the devil, Satan, demons, Kim Jong-un and Donald Trump.Come to think of it, has anybody ever cared to find out why sex is so nice yet it gives birth to people like Trump. Maybe even his mum chose to name him Donald Trump because the government wouldn’t let her name him “Oh shit”. Anyway dating older women is wrong; you need fresh blood, a young lady almost your age…not too old, not too young. One who will probably fall in love with you and be a keeper coz she never loses anything, the only thing she ever lost was her virginity. You need a girl that’s still got all that sexual energy and does it like no one has ever done it before; down on all fours, under, over, under again…and maybe she cums five times a day, no, she can cum whenever you want her to cum. I hear they’re not called beautiful anymore, these days they’re called hot girlfriends, as hot as the devils ass. Okay the devil’s ass isn’t hot, nobody has ever tasted it. But maybe Trump will, or Duale. But you pray for that one beautiful girlfriend to come your way, one who make you invest so much into your relationship that if she ever tries to break your heart then you’ll knock her out with chloroform and sell her kidneys for a new iPhone.

Okay I need to stop my rant. What am I even saying, today’s post wasn’t even about love, or cupid, or his splattered ass. I completely went off key there, so off key like the last time I tried singing along to one of Sam Smith’s songs. Why, why is the nigga gay though? Today’s post was about politics, Donald Trump and his homeboy Aden Duale. But since the weather is still cold as a newborn baby’s buttock and I already lost all that was in my mind related to politics, I think I’ll just call it a day, or night, or both. The dry spell is taking its toll here. See you when I get laid!

 

7 thoughts on “Of Dry Spells And A Sex Starved Bachelor..

  1. The sex would be better if all that female baggage did not come along with it. A friend called yesterday. He is so distraught by another failed relationship. I tried to explain he will never be happy with alcoholic women. When we are so lonely for sex or just companionship many compromise their senses and settle for damaged goods which are toxic for us. Nothing is better than an ugly something.

    Like

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