this is another letter of complaint from my website of (homo)sexual assault that is
"When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it." - Madonna
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dear sir or vagina:

it's time that i came out of the closet as a homosexual. i'm tired of trying to fool myself into thinking that i can get boners for girls. i have tried dating girls - two times before i was 14 - and i have never even kissed a girl. i find the idea as repulsive and reprehensible as sticking any part of me inside of a girl. i'm tired of trying to be man enough to be my man. sorry, ladies, i'm gay. i'm not man enough, i don't have the same kind of masculine esteem and admiration for myself as i have for football studs, and NO i can't say that i love myself AS a man. not when there's good reason not to...speaking of, have you gotten a look at football-stud JEB BLAZAVICH? wow, what a H-U-N-K. :) wow, add him to the list of football-hunks i would cherish every moment with. josh lane, matt muchnok, tim tebow. i've never asked anyone for advice regarding love, but i may as well try writing to "dear, abby". oh, who am i kidding, jeb's practically famous - i have no chance. well, i can dream can't i? so maybe i won't send my letter to the advice-queen, dear, abby, but i can post it on my website and pretend my dream-lover reads it. maybe my dream-date will send an email to me and it'd be a match made in heaven!

i don't plan on sending this letter to miss "dear, abby," but right now it'd make me happy, just to write it: okay, and masturbate...i'm busted. don't judge, man. :)

SO I MASTURBATE TO MENTAL IMAGES I GET WHEN I WRITE, SO WHAT? I DON'T NEED PORN TO GET ME OFF - I DON'T NEED PEOPLE TO GET ME OFF - ALL I NEED IS MY OWN IMAGINATION. (does that sound like a lyric of madonna's?) just FYI, i haven't been naked with anyone but myself for at least four years. no regrets, my celibacy is a badge of honor. especially when it comes to the reality of poop, sweat, saliva and odors. now, if lane, tebow, muchnok or blazavich offered...that'd be a different story. supermen, supercocks! men of steel, manly bodies of steel.

it's kind of a blessing that i've only ever wanted to make sexual advances to straight men. it's probably the reason why i don't have AIDS. i got crabs once when i lived in annapolis. i've always felt bad that i didn't know i had crabs and i gave it to a sex-partner after i moved to bensalem. sorry, man, whatever your name was. i didn't know i had it. i didn't even regard getting it as a possibility.

well, here goes my fan-mail to dear, abby, praising jeb blazavich.
dear, abby

blazavich. i am head over feet for a sex-object named blazavich.

hello, my dear, abby - blazavich is looking so do-able to me and my penis right now. so awesome, and someone, yes, who really, really gets me horny enough, wow, just to risk affirming patriarchal endeavors. lust, i want to risk affirming my patriarchal lust (my lust for daddy) and i want to justify my lust. oh, abby, i fantasize by myself about forcing myself under blazavich's respectfully-dignified uniform and familiarizing myself with everything i touch. i want blazavich to be my "officer krystal" from american wedding and i want blazavich dressed in a police officer's uniform to DISCIPLINE me. "SIR, YES, SIR" - i fantasize a lot about blazavich, abby, blazavich naked is something i'd pay good money to see. oh - somebody slap me! oh, blazavich, arrest me, handcuff me! be my recruiter! recruit me and take me under your wing. OH, somebody make me behave! somebody police me! SIR, YES, SIR!!! spank me! i need to be monitored before i jerk it five times in one day and spurt out a bloody kind of cum!!!!!

dear, abby, i must apologize for the next couple of sentences - the lack of punctuation and the - well, it just seems so jumbled . after rereading the letter, i guess i wrote it in the heat of the moment with stone temple pilots playing on my mp3s: "here i come, i come, i come, i come".

dear, abby...i'm no indian a pennsylvania man is what i am no i don't wear a helmet with feathers and no i don't have tan skin and yes i'm as white as they come. i hear the possession of any indian,a power supernatural, kind of like the indian in poltergeist. well, it's not the power of an indian a power to ward off a need to ejaculate or jizz, and even if it was then i would not have it because i am not an indian. i'd give anything to hump blazavich INSTEAD of my bed!!!!! so much desire for blazavich, dear, abby, just like muchnok and tebow and lane. i would honor and respect him, try to cater to his every need. if only he would email me and give me a chance. i know, he's straight and man enough to be the man of his dreams, he does not lack a personal sense of masculine esteem, but can i just fantasize that he'd want anything at all to do with me and my penis?! :)

in the words of billy joel, "sometimes a fantasy is all you need". well, i'm almost there...

dear, abby, i realize that blazavich is most definitely stronger than any strong woman, and (given blazavich's focus and occupation) i realize that my level of strength could NEVER carry him to my bed, but i'm just so horny for blazavich...what do i do? we'll never meet face-to-face, if we ever do then i'd probably faint from a mixture of fright and reverence and i guess i shouldn't be writing to dear, abby, about advice on how to act if i ever would come in contact with the beautiful blazavich. it's never gonna happen, he's not a masculivoid because in his heart he is the #1 specimen of manhood. i would want such a strong sense of masculine esteem, but i'm so used to finding the man of my dreams in somebody else. sadly, i realize that i'll never kiss blazavich and that i'll never get the chance to.

dear, abby, blazavich just makes me crazy and would make me do unspeakable things! i'm out of the closet, abby, all i want is men...but i feel so guilty about fantasizing. i mean, i guess i feel the same way fantasizing about tebow and muchnok (okay, and lane)...but it's good that it's only my bed that i hump. can i say "rape," abby? oh, i forgot, it's not rape because i know that my bed likes it, abby. i'm quite the stud, abby. abby, fez on "that 70s show" taught me to repeat the name of any vagina i am speaking with. now, abby, i realize i'm not trying to get you into bed, abby, but i just like to emulate fez at times, abby. now, getting back to rape, abby, blazavich would never want to have sex with a man because the man of his dreams lives in his heart. i understand this, and it is not my place to even try to carry him to my bed. though i believe that anyone, close to everyone, would like, well, would like the way i rape, abby...but far be it from me to actively desire sex from a straight man. blazavich can only be my fantasy, abby....yes, my sweet, dear, abby, blazavich IS my fantasy and it pains me to admit that a dear masculine penis-fantasy is all mister blazavich can ever be. (that was a close ejaculation, right there, abby).

well, i guess my infatuation with jeb is another reason to go by 'blazavich' when i'm performing in drag, abby. what i wouldn't give to see blazavich shirtless, abby! "my name is earl" had a crab-man, well, i am the ab-man and i LOVE to see big and strong (white) men without their shirts on! that is why my drag-name is "abby," abby. my persona is "abby" because i'm all about the abs, abby. i'm blazavich, abby, because, well, i fantasize of jeb blazavich all of the time. my fantasies are all about sex in bed with jeb! i wonder if jeb is just his nickname like abby is my yours is, dear, abby. i've gotta say something to the jeb now, abby

blazavich, i love you, and i fantasize of you without a shirt on! please do a pictorial in an adult magazine!

well, now that my "dear, abby" letter of gay fantasy is out of my that the image of jeb blazavich isn't begging to be praised by my writing about him...well, i guess i can just save this, lay back and masturbate, then go downstairs. the truth is, dear, abby, i don't have time to have sex with anyone...i just love to write, abby. i may watch reruns of "the nanny" and "the cosby show" and "malcolm in the middle" online (well, i minimize the window and just use the shows as background noise - kinda like MUSAK), i may watch news and rarely a movie on cable, abby, but i'm no couch-potato, abby. i don't care about being a couch-potato because i'm a bed-potato, abby...the bed is where i use the computer and internet, abby. no time for sex with people, no time for going out with people, no time for relationships with people. i don't suffer from narcissism, abby, i embrace it.

i don't suffer from narcissism, abby, i embrace it.


goodnight, blazavich. thanks for the fantasy! and iiiiiiiii-yiiiiiiiiiiii will always love you! well, i'm sure we'll never meet, but iiiiiii-yiiiiiiiiii will always love the fantasy. :)

"sometimes a fantasy is all you need" - thanks, billy.

goodnight, my dear, abby.

mr. dylan terreri, i
dr. sheldon cooper, ii
"When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it." - Madonna
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