Days to First-Annual 29th Birthday: 19
Mental State: Gah!
Big Scary Piranha with the Yippy Small Dog Complex came back from his vacation today. The fact that I'm trying to lay low and not make any sudden movements is significant of one, perhaps, two things. (A) I'm a wimp that actually deserves the verbal floggings this little man heaps on all and sundry just because he can, or (B) He’s a complete and total rectum.
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I'm feeling a little carb heavy; a little bloated, a little icky. Frankly, I'm feeling fat. I'm actually looking forward to getting on Phil tonight. "Who's Phil?" you may be asking right now. Oh, you know Phil. I've told you about Phil. He's my treadmill. Phil is short for Fellatio, you see. I call him Fellatio because having to go on a treadmill totally sucks. Plus, it sounds more Italian than Hoover, don't you think?
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Right. I've a full day ahead of me, with the reward of semi-naked gay men at the end of it. That's right, sweetie darlings. It's Queer as Folk night! Tricks AND treats!
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