Evil Undergarments And Fishing For Unsuitable Mates

Hello once again, my dear readers, this time I am at my little cousins first Communion. I cannot describe to you how ‘awkward’ I feel. I am surrounded by people I vaguely know from hell knows where, in a dark basement surrounded by bottles of Jack Daniels, just to meet your everyday Polish stereotype and I am getting squeezed from all sides by ‘controlling underwear’. It certainly controls what rolls flow in and out from my inner walrus, however what they do not tell you on the packaging is that this crap squeezes you so much your circulation gets cut off at random times in weird places ; another thing they disguise well is that it holds you so tight your ribs are slowly, cutting through your skin, are slowly and rather painfully reunited with their long lost love; elastic. So yeah, I’m going to wear it ALL THE TIME.So currently as I sit here, unable to breathe, I am pretty happy, I have managed to escape their judgement, swiftly avoiding comments such as, “your wedding is next” and “here, have some food which is covered in mayonnaise, don’t worry you’re only 20kg overweight”, and not to mention questions similar to “so what do you want to do with the rest of your life?” followed by “oh please you’re only 16, you’ll change your mind a million times before you decide, just like me, back in the day”. As seconds pass breathing is becoming increasingly difficult, well it may be based on the fact that I’m on the floor of a rather messy 10 year old or in the slickly described (by me) tuck ins. It only seems to be half five. It’s been a long day.

On a happy note (for some enthusiastic basta…err people) its getting warmer, 23/24 degrees however as much as I dislike this sort of weather (for various tanning and slut dressing reasons) I have one purpose in life when this weather is upon us. No it’s not to find a suitable mate or to find one for my cat – she had the snip. I am going fishing… soon. Fishing is the one thing that I can call a sport while sitting on my ass, while waiting for a beautiful slimy piece of ass. Similar to the above however I do not feel the urge to put my non-existent penis in its mouth later on, unlike some people, I suppose. Hope you enjoy, whatever the hell you’re doing and as always, in the words of the great Charlie Brooker “Now get out”.


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