/         it's almost like an antithesis of ****,
given this english heatwave -
a woman's brag rule:
i.e. she can give any man a hard-on,
any time of day, any place
on this, currently, godforsaken earth...
even a somali living in england
says: it's too hot...
                   well ****-me-timber!
i thought i was becoming
trans-racial for a second there -
             because if it's not a former
friend of mine, in highschool
(great footballer potential -
succumbing to a ****** insecurity,
aged 16)...
   what next? a walking ***** analogy?
oh the shame of actually
being wet while... having *** forced
upon you -
   like modern ****, and the imposed
self-**** (samo gwaɫt) on men
(*******) - ****** dissonance...
limp **** elsewhere -
   where only prostitutes can break
the curse of making synchronißation
of the two artefacts of ***:
in private, and in the doubly-private...
but you somehow notice -
women have this brag law "jetlag"
composite to them...
    and i have slept with prostitutes
that bypassed the dry-****
smearing ****** scream onto their
  genitals -
           but i've also slept with
a south african atypical boers woman...
who... somehow forgot to lubricate
her genitals... my my!
   what a joyous experience for "little richard"...
seriously...
          a woman of her stature,
teaching mathematics in an all-boys
boarding school?
      given an ongoing "pension"
   of having her accommodation paid for,
living on campus?
        *** like circumcision in real-time,
       without any anaesthetics...
and then they mouth of prostitutes -
or pretend to "defend" their rights...
   the same women who do not possess
the same sensibility of prostitutes -
who... whether they want to ******* or not...
will add an extra tier of lubrication -
perhaps because they have exhausted
the natural resources on the fifth client
in one night...
     hence... ****...
          yeah... why would a ****** suddenly
**** a non-lubricated ****?
subsequent reaction from women?
   masochism...
                        utter self-loathing...
a schizophrenic multiplication complex,
where once there was a quasi-understood
ego, comes the algebraic (X)...
     and what's with this *******
under bedsheet, like a larva of a butterfly
emerging from a, ******* cocoon?
here's a schematic:
1. walks into a brothel, asks for a glass of water
2. the one who gives him a glass of water
   he takes into a bedroom
3. asks how much for an hour,
pays her, she walks out with the money
4. he quickly undresses,
  and lays his naked **** on the bedsheets
5. she walks in: huh? and casually undresses
6. and they lie on the bedsheets
7. **** me, that enwrapping leg,
that thigh! across his torso.
8. the end.
it's not funny being "*****" on a casual
date...
              not when she hasn't the decency
to lubricate herself,
  if she, nonetheless wants to
             have *** in a cocoon fashion...
would there be any rapists
if all the women *****,
   had an evolutionary instinct:
   to not be aroused?
                what... like otherwise -
putting your phallus between sandpaper?
paradox numero uno.