Leave Your Penis at the Door
I like the idea of people removing their penises upon entering somebody's house and leaving them at the door, like a pair of shoes. And then sometimes you grab the wrong penis when you're leaving cause it looks the same, and you only realise when it's got a different bump, or the veins are a different pattern. Or you forget to leave your penis at the door and the host gives you a rude look for wearing your penis while sitting on their couch, and you've gotta go take it off to appease them. Anyway, that's why I gave this blog that title. Leaving penises at the door would be funny. Also, mine has been permanently left at a hospital door in Thailand, never to be seen again (as you all know).
I've started doing dynamic dilation now. That's the thing where you swirl the dilator around in your vagina that I talked about last time. It's all good. It takes less time and the swirling isn't so bad. I go medium dilator for a bit, then large - the dynamic duo. You've gotta push pretty hard to get full depth sometimes (if you don't continuously achieve full depth with the dilator then eventually you will permanently lose that depth), but that's fine. It's much more comfortable than having anything up your butt. I once put a carrot up there so I could pretend I was getting fucked in the vag, and it was not enjoyable. I used olive oil as lube. I was 17. Carrots in the butt are better than enemas though, but both are worse than large sized dilators swirling in your new vagina. One in the butt is worth two in the bush. That's what I was trying to say.
By the way, peel the carrot first to remove any nasty bumps.
It's been good having Mum and Dad around. They're good value. We walked to the Forum Plaza today, which is a local mall (a shit one too). It's the furthest I've gone in yonks. I reckon about 900m there and back all up - bloody good effort team! Me and my vagina are the team by the way, if you were thinking you might be on the team since you're reading this blog. You're not on the team. And I'm aware that I should have written "My vagina and I", but it feels too formal. We're past formalities. Me and my vagina are fully synchronized. We're fused at the hip.
The old dynamic duo (Already used that for something else - whoops!) The parentals are out at the Central Plaza at the moment (a much better mall) getting me a donut. The thing about having slaves is it's really not as bad as everyone made it out to be. And I know I should definitely delete that sentence, but seriously - I can ask for anything right now because of my post-surgical-impaired status and they've gotta do it. "Bring me my cushion, Slave!" "This drink is too sweet, make it again!". Seriously though, love you Mum and Dad. If there's one piece of advice I could give it would be to appreciate your parents, because they really are irreplaceable. I didn't know that until I came out to them and they kept loving me just the same. I even have a wee tear writing this. A second, just as valuable, piece of advice would be to avoid implications that slavery is or ever was good.
I'm super caffeinated right now which is why I'm still writing. There's nothing else I can do from a bed that harnesses the level of caffeine in my system right now. It makes it really hard to write sentences though - I can't tell if they're stringing together properly or just completely terrible. I'm one of those people that likes to preemptively include an excuse about being bad at something to reduce anxiety and lower expectations. That's what this whole paragraph is. I guess it should be at the top though, but this is where it is.
I guess I should tie things up about here. I'm sure I had actual things I wanted to write about, but somehow I always end up going full stream of consciousness. I've taken a picture of my cushion this time to show you what protects my vagina when in a vulnerable sitting situation. Everyone gets one. It's what gives away a fresh vagina. I think it looks a bit like a spaceship, but I'm not sure which one. Maybe one of you will know.
I've started doing dynamic dilation now. That's the thing where you swirl the dilator around in your vagina that I talked about last time. It's all good. It takes less time and the swirling isn't so bad. I go medium dilator for a bit, then large - the dynamic duo. You've gotta push pretty hard to get full depth sometimes (if you don't continuously achieve full depth with the dilator then eventually you will permanently lose that depth), but that's fine. It's much more comfortable than having anything up your butt. I once put a carrot up there so I could pretend I was getting fucked in the vag, and it was not enjoyable. I used olive oil as lube. I was 17. Carrots in the butt are better than enemas though, but both are worse than large sized dilators swirling in your new vagina. One in the butt is worth two in the bush. That's what I was trying to say.
By the way, peel the carrot first to remove any nasty bumps.
It's been good having Mum and Dad around. They're good value. We walked to the Forum Plaza today, which is a local mall (a shit one too). It's the furthest I've gone in yonks. I reckon about 900m there and back all up - bloody good effort team! Me and my vagina are the team by the way, if you were thinking you might be on the team since you're reading this blog. You're not on the team. And I'm aware that I should have written "My vagina and I", but it feels too formal. We're past formalities. Me and my vagina are fully synchronized. We're fused at the hip.
I'm super caffeinated right now which is why I'm still writing. There's nothing else I can do from a bed that harnesses the level of caffeine in my system right now. It makes it really hard to write sentences though - I can't tell if they're stringing together properly or just completely terrible. I'm one of those people that likes to preemptively include an excuse about being bad at something to reduce anxiety and lower expectations. That's what this whole paragraph is. I guess it should be at the top though, but this is where it is.
I guess I should tie things up about here. I'm sure I had actual things I wanted to write about, but somehow I always end up going full stream of consciousness. I've taken a picture of my cushion this time to show you what protects my vagina when in a vulnerable sitting situation. Everyone gets one. It's what gives away a fresh vagina. I think it looks a bit like a spaceship, but I'm not sure which one. Maybe one of you will know.
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