*blue balls not included.
Wet dreams*, or nocturnal emissions, are a pure fascination of mine (but obviously not as much as the female breasts). Here are some awesome facts to ponder while you drift off to Happy Land this evening: they do and can happen to women (I cannot recollect being so lucky), it is messier with men (as if you needed an explanation, pervs), usually stop during periods of sexual activity — or constant self-pleasure (seriously, get a girlfriend), or can happen as result of a full bladder (so… how do I know you just haven’t pissed yourself?).
I’m disturbed and very intrigued that this has never happened to me! I’ve had some crazy ass dreams (especially the perverse and disturbing kind that bring about these sort of sleep-induced spermies), but nothing remotely resembling an orgasm upon awakening. Fucking men — you get the penises AND the luxury of orgasms with no sex.
*To any of my readers, this is not and should not be embarrassing; in
fact, it’s quite frankly, the most awesome form of self-lovin’ ever to
be discussed.
…and it’s Easter time, and I already know I’m going to hell; so please, save it.
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
