Hello. It seems that I have become trapped in some kind of time vortex as a result of certain dream activity.
This time vortex has sent me to a place in the future where I went into a single engine Cessna plane with a really handsome man with abs like rotini. I was horny as fuck when I agreed to do this, provided he didn't wear a shirt and oiled up his torso for me to gaze upon with my feminine gazing ways.
Once we were in the air tonight, I was bewitched by his manly physique and the prominent erection he had straining against his jeans. What a sight, can I tell you, sister? What a sight. I was so heated up that I jumped on top of him and began dry riding him for as long as the day is going on. And then he lost control of the plane, I was too worked up to stop, and we crashed on a deserted island somewhere in the ocean.
I need someone to come and look for me. This is a difficult situation for an absolutely gorgeous woman to be in. I have a hair appointment on Thursday. Don't people understand that?
I was beside myself with this going on. This damn time vortex was a befuddlement of the highest degree. You would need years of schooling to even begin to unwind the secrets of the time vortex. It is the working of The Devil, I tell you, sisters and soul brothers. If you see a time vortex, move away from the time vortex. This is not something to play around with. Even when you are as hot as I am.
What I am mainly is going to ask is if any of you Star Trek type nerds (you know, I think Star Shrek could also work) will help me out. Maybe some of you Sheldon-types know how I can get off a desert island in the middle of some kind of undefined time vortex.
Can you imagine being awful? Can you imagine what that would entail? I hate awful people. They disgust me with their awfulness. Pretty much every time. I'm serious.
Now, the most troubling thing going on here is, of course, that I would need this type of assistance. I am the type of woman who has luscious, but incompetent, private plane pilots at her beck and call. You have been warned. I am trained in the sexual arts (minored in it in junior college - yah!). I am a sexual being. I am a sexual being. Not going to tease you with any hanging bracket. No sir, not this time. Almost got me, though.
I need assistance. Desert island. Time vortex. This is the kind of thing you geeks are supposed to be good at. Imagine, hanging out at a half-dead website because you can't leave the house except to work in the mental mall. If I put my tits in your face, you would obey. You know that you would. My tits are perfectly round, perfectly tanned globes of camp counselor goodness. You should be so lucky. My friend Brad calls them "succulents," and Brad, we'll just say he ain't too bright. But he gets hard like Christmas. You know, when Santa comes on his sleigh. Hippy yippie good times right there.
At this unheated winter camp for fucking kids I'm for some reason working at, this little girl came up to me the other day. She says, "I want you to put a Band-Aid on my bendy place." I am like, WTF is that? Fuck is she talking about. I reeled back and smacked this child across the face so hard that her head shattered. This is one of the dangers of making kids spend two full weeks in unheated cabins in northern Maine in early March. Tough living up here, let me tell you. Tough living. The tough get tougher and the weak gotta get dying. And fast. I hope the weak ones die fast.
We had this other kid, apparently Jewish. He starts running around in a cape saying that he is "Captain Yom Kippur," and I am like WTF? Is that even appropriate in this day and age? End that shit.
The vortex is closing. Send Star Trek nerd type assistance immediately. The Palaminas on Mean Street are striking a pose. Get ready. Take down, Fifth Avenue.
Don't be one of the nut swigglers down on Swiggledown Court. Just. Don't. Do. It. You will live to regret it. So many regrets. So few boxes of Kleenex. Remember back in the day? We used a lot of Kleenex back then. Tearjerker. Lifetime Channel. Shit like that. It makes you soft. Get hard. Vagina is coming. Keep your toilet paper off the Facebooks. You know what I'm talking about
The kids at camp this winter, where we have cruel, cruel winter camp in unheated cabins for kids, they are spoiled rotten. I get broads like that, I really do, but not the boys. I have no cock. How can I relate? They think differently than we do. They get painful boners and ball-aching loss of ejaculatory motivation, or as they say in the Soviet Union, soyez indecat movaya. I learned that in Deaf Camp.
Most people die in a car accident before they get around to seeing China. Unless they live in China. Then they are already there. Different story right there, sister.
The border cats are cycling. Their pussies are hungry for raw meat. I never shit you on this level. You Star Trek nerds may be thick, but you are clever little fuckers with teeny weeny peeny. I know this. Fact. Bathroom.
I want to go to the Searstown Mall and buy some girlie shit. Someone get me out of this island/time vortex... please!
Posted for your immediate help requested to be received by sender, addendum attached.
Good girls don't get any meat. Take that to the bank.