|Be her or have her tell me what to do?|
Not in a submissive sense, I've pointed out before that I would
be terrible at being a submissive. I'm far too arrogant and
|Oh yes, you are so accurate.|
You lying little cock.
|Not related, but she is using|
paper to write in a physical
sense so it'll do for now.
|I forget where I snatched this from. Hasn't stopped me|
wondering whether or not this would have been a better
outcome back in the day though.
At least alone there's no one to worry and be sad when you're
gone, you know?
|Ah, but, you see, other people actually put in effort and work|
hard to achieve things rather than being half-arsed and too
lazy to edit anything once begun. You twat.
I'm less good now than I was last year, itself on a par with the year before and so on. Past-Me looks at me now with despair and fear. I look back with ill-disguised contempt at what I have become and forlornly peer about, wondering how long I can keep this whole charade going. I'm fat (closing on 11st 7oz and with a pot belly that causes most things to jut out alarmingly), lazy, lonely and a shit father and useless teacher. Not even in the sexually deviant sense I'm a fucking useless twat.