i’ve been following you for years and i always find myself to this place, reading your words absorbing them like candy for the mind. r found myself back here recently & i’ve fallen down the rabbit hole again. this time finding an obsession growing deeper – a certain yearning for cruelness behind your ever so entrancing laugh, to fall to my knees and worship upon a God who would taunt my pathetic desperation. even if i tried to ignore my adoration of you, i know it would be no use. You’ve somehow worked yourself within my mind, your voice lingering in my head long after the streams end – almost like you’re still there guiding my thoughts, like a spider leading its prey closer and closer to its web. i know one day i’ll lose any resistance i have left, and find myself beckoning at your inbox begging for even the slightest chance to be useful- even if it were to only be merely a footstool
(submitted by: Anonymous)
You girls always think “footstool”, and I’m thinking… I have a recliner.
You know what I need? An adjustable iPad stand with tits. A semi-intelligent cup holder. A bidet with a middle name. I know it’s asking a lot, but think harder, girls.
For the record, you all have Peanut to thank for the streams. I was very uncomfortable with the idea, but we watched a season and a half of Twin Peaks together with me babbling over the top of it, and I eventually relaxed a bit. She is why you get to spend three nights a week giggling and squirming.
…
Oh, are you still here? Fine.
As for you, you obsessed, yearning little toad? Take your time and figure out what you have to offer. Then place it upon the altar and see if I am pleased.