You know, I really don't mind this strike. Sleeping over at my friend's dorm has been pretty fun and walking the 57 blocks to work isn't as soul-crushing as I had anticipated/hoped. However, I feel as if I am going to die. After all, a gal's got needs. Needs that involve me touching myself incessantly, day by day, hour by hour, if not minute by minute. As a 20 year old gay virgin, masturbation is one of the few things that keep me sane. The others being weed, daily Golden Girls marathons and that sweet smell of muffin and danish on my way to work from the countless carts and vendors linging the 3 miles to the good ole grind. Thus I haven't been able to explore the rugged terrain that is the equator of the globe that is my lusicous jackson body.
I don't know how much longer I can hold out, kids, before I just start jacking off every guy who even dares look within 35 degrees of my direction. This must not persist.
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