Y_B

Is she enrolled in Kaplan yet? How are her grades? Remember the proper grading scale She needs to get a move on

The government shut down?

Your score: 8 Gender: Male Age range: 20-29 I screwed up the last row mainly cuz I lost interest by then and was just trying to finish the damn thing.

I thought you were confidently bi

BAPPY HIRTHDAY

Occasionally. When I feel for a sprinkle of class. Lemme share a story I read on the dangers of dating - "We hadn’t been dating that long, only about a month. Even though we'd only been dating a short time, we were having sex since the second date, and it was the best, freakiest, porno-style sex of my life. Seriously, this was the kind of sex that every man, deep down, dreams about having at least once in his life. It was the kind of sex that I had wished for ever since my voice started changing. It was with this woman, and only with this woman, that I was ever addressed with the phrase, “Use your whole fist for Christ’s sake.” On one now infamous date night, we were enjoying a romantic dinner at an upscale seafood restaurant. Through the entire meal, however, sex was all that was on our minds. In retrospect, every date we ever went on seemed to just be a temporary diversion from the best part of the night, which involved animalistic insertions, feral lickings and brazen misuse of food products. We emptied wine bottle after wine bottle over the course of the dinner, and by the time the main course arrived, fish for her and lobster for me, she slipped off her shoes and casually masturbated me under the table with her stocking covered feet. Completely plastered and horny by the end of the meal, we decided to skip dessert in the restaurant because a much sweeter dessert “was being prepared in her hot, wet crotch,” she said. I paid the bill and narrowly avoided getting a speeding ticket, not to mention a DUI, during the drive back to my place. By the time we got into my apartment, we were tearing each other’s clothes off. Sloppy in our drunkenness, we knocked over two lamps during our horny, groping journey into the bedroom. Once in the bed, she got down on all fours, arched her back, and presented her delicious ass to me. I grunted my approval while aiming my rock-hard cock missile at her hairy silo. When the head of my cock began to penetrate her lips, she stopped me. “No. In my ass,” she hissed at me, sounding both horny and angry at the same time. “Are you sure,” I asked? She giggled as she said, “If I could handle last night. . .” Oh yeah, I thought. Last night’s adventure involved a clown mask, three packets of Pop Rocks, and a twenty-inch replica of the Eiffel Tower. What the hell was I thinking? Of course she could handle some anal-action. She reached between her legs and began lubing up her asshole with her own pussy juices. Where did I find this girl? I thought. I was in horn-dog heaven. Blessed. Not being an expert in anal intrusion, I slowly eased my way into her lovely stink-star. First the head, then a quarter of the shaft, and soon I was buried to the hilt between her ass-cheeks. “Go slowly,” she said, half moaning, half panting in both pleasure and pain, I think. I did as she bid, and very slowly began pulling out, like a steam piston on an old locomotive beginning its first run in a century. Almost all the way out of her, but keeping the head firmly planted in her ass-iris, I slowly began inserting again. “Yeeeeees!” she moaned and began diddling her clit. Soon she said, “Faster.” So faster I went, the tempo increasing until the train was running at full speed, the piston pumping in and out so fast my cock became a complete blur, her hand rubbing her clit like she was trying to start a friction-fire in her pussy. “Gnnnnnnnah!” she screamed. Thinking she was close to orgasm, I pumped that ass even faster, faster than Amish meth-head churns butter. “Gnnnnnahstoooop,” she screamed, or something like this, because the noise in my head was drowning out the reality around me, for in my head I heard a steam locomotive, chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-Woo-Woo! Barreling down the tracks, and somehow I pumped even faster. “YES!” I screamed. She started reaching behind her and flailing on the bed in what I thought was ecstasy— “—Stop!” she screamed, able to finally get out the word I had mistaken for groans of ecstasy moments ago. She screamed this with such volume and guttural, primal force that it had the effect of pulling the emergency brake on a 100,000 pound locomotive running at full speed. The sex act squealed to a halt, and I pulled my cock out of her ass like the rip-cord on a parachute. Did someone order champagne? No, that popping noise was my cock coming out of her ass. “Arrrrrrgh!” She screamed, as I yanked my cock free. And then it happened. Immediately after my cock popped out, I was sprayed from belly to thighs with watery, fish-smelling diarrhea. “What the—-?” I said, not able to get the word ‘fuck’ out of my mouth because of my shock at the brown funk lining my body. As she sprayed me, she seemed to be propelled forward by the force of the jet-propelled diarrhea, and she collapsed onto her stomach. “Oh. My. Fucking. God.” I murmured, completely shell-shocked. Everything was still. I could hear my wind-up alarm clock ticking on my dresser. I stared at my shit-covered body. I surveyed the room to see if there was any collateral damage. The trajectory of the diarrhea spray was similar to buck-shot in a sawed-off shotgun; it was everywhere. Unfortunately, during the sex act she had been facing the feet-side of the bed, which meant that the headboard, my bedside table and lamp had poop on them as well. Even my bedside clock had a few speckles staining its face. The bed sheets: Killed in Action. A total loss. I looked at my date, lying there motionless. I called her name. No response. I called her name while shaking her a bit. Nothing. Fear shot through me, as I thought, “Oh my god, what if she’s dead?” But this fear quickly dissipated when I heard her snoring. She was passed out from the wine. I on the other hand was no longer blasted drunk, because the blast from her ass rendered me completely sober. This night was definitely going down in the (ahem) annals as the all time worst date of my life. In fact, I had to invent a new special category, “Even the Devil would feel sympathetic,” to describe this night. I cleaned up. I cleaned her up. I cleaned the headboard, the dresser, the lamp and the clock. With some manipulation of her passed out body, I was able to wrangle the sheets from the bed and throw them down the garbage chute. By two in the morning, I found myself lying on my couch, drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle. I don’t remember passing out myself, but I can say that unconsciousness didn’t come soon enough. “It was food poisoning,” her voicemail message explained to me the next day. After some silence, she added, “The fish.” More silence. “Sorry.” She left this message the following day, around 2:00 p.m. I had slept until Noon, and, thank God, she was gone when I woke up. How do you face that? She never called me again. I never called her. I definitely learned two valuable lessons that night: 1) Never have anal sex after a sea food dinner. 2) Be careful what you wish for. There’s only one other experience in my life that entered into the “Even the Devil would feel sympathetic” category, and frankly I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell that story. Let’s just say that the morning after a great one-night-stand, the beautiful woman you banged the night before can certainly use your bathroom. . .but she shouldn’t be more comfortable standing up while she pees." There is no fish involved in hooking up

I meant to keep this light and casual, it wasn't meant as a deep psychological question that needed analysis. As in, the guy I was dating in college, I realized we really settled comfortably into the relationship when I stopped caring how I looked around him lol, it got to a point where he started telling me I looked like trailer trash basically cuz I ditch the button ups and sperrys and went with gym shorts and tshirt all the time

God I love this song. I can sing it pretty well too, just need to finish learning it on the guitar and I'd have an awesome cover ready...thuper exthited...

So when it comes to dating, and any kinda relationship you have with people, there's a process and then you reach a point where you realize that you're really getting comfy with the other person and things are going well, you're really getting along great. So, just for fun, I'm curious, where is that "point" for you?

Umm, how do yall know I'm not talking about Lumosity or Angry Bird or the Big Bang Theory game? He was a 1/10 when he used his Android but is now a 2/10 now that I know he uses an iPhone

You made me think about this one and I'm actually going to say it's not sectioned by major but who the person was, where they went to school and how they networked. A lot of girls I know with stupid majors still ended up getting jobs like being law firm runners or something in sales. Engineers usually have no prob getting jobs. Just by getting thru the curriculum means they aren't playing around. Business majors are very tricky and it really fell on the person.

It's glitchy as fuck and lots of email/music problems. 1) It's showing all unread email count instead of just out of the most current 25/50 like it did before. I know I have thousands of unread emails but I fully appreciated it telling me I have say, 5 out of last 50 unread instead of 5000 unread. I have yet to figure out out to change the configuation 2) Emails from same sender use to be grouped in "convo" view and it'll give you a number next to the email if there are multiple emails from the same sender. It doesn't do that anymore and now it looks like it's just 1 email until you tap on it and then if it's multiple emails, THEN it shows you all the emails from the sender. VERY inconvenient. I don't read all my work emails but I do scroll through and scan for information I know I can find just by scrolling and reading the 1st couple previewed lines. I used to be able to see what email has layers with the "number" next to it but now that it doesn't tell me, I can no longer tell if I skipped an email because I didn't realize there are multiple ones from same sender. 3) There is a glitch in email that will say you have an unread email even when you don't. You can do "mark all", "mark all read" and it will still tell you you have an unread email. It drives me nuts. 4) Music app is jacked up, it's now sorting everything by album and showing the album cover for every song. I have thousands of songs on my phone, organized by artist, albums, and genre. For some reason it's decided that giving me a simple list of my songs is no longer acceptable, it has to show me the album cover of every song meaning every song is no longer just 1 line in a list, it's a block with the album cover, album name and then song name, makes scrolling more time consuming and not as eye-friendly. 5) I can no longer play all songs from a given genre, I used this feature all the time, it's intuitive...pull up all "country" songs, pull up all "jazz", etc etc and play all, shuffled. It doesn't have this feature anymore, you can only play things BY ALBUM, even after you're pulled everything up by genre, itll still sort everything by artist and album and you can only play songs from those artists/albums, not all from the genre. It's fucking annoying. 6) The numbering in my tunes by artist are no longer the intuitive "1,2,3,4,5"....it's decided that when you pull up your say, 10, songs from a given artist you have, it'll show you the "track number" of that song based on it's position in ITS ALBUM EVEN IF YOU DONT HAVE THE ENTIRE ALBUM, meaning, your list of songs from 1 artist now reads something like 1, 6, 10, 22, 4, 17 instead of 1,2,3,4,5....very dumb. 7) in Safari, all the tool buttons are no longer always on the page, it disappears making more room for the content of the page which I guess is kinda nice but it's not easy to pull up those buttons, like the back button, new tab button, etc...they all disappear and to pull it up you either have to scroll to the top, touch it at a very specific place at the bottom of the screen both of which are very inconvenient. 8) my most used app that shall remain nameless no longer works with iOS 7 and I'm waiting of the update to come for it to work again...#annoyed. 9) I really dont like the look and feel of everything else. The colors, cutesy kinda interface, your text messags look like some cartoon bubbles. Not very professinal.

Early college - endless supply of bank of dad money to spend. Mid-20s everyone got a lot more conservative in their spendings with those who have shitty jobs becoming extremely conservative with their spendings

It's Dao De Jing dummy

I am soooooooooo undeniably annoyed by this ceaseless "black people" / "white people" thing that's weaving itself into EVERYTHING.

Amurrca is far from being a melting pot of worldly cultures. You have a pot of mixed ingredients that float awkwardly around each other. We hate more than we love. That's the society we are growing up in - adolescents trying desperately to fit into conforming roles, people of some racial groups refusing to learn even their own language or about their culture, YouTube videos going viral telling us what's cool and what's cool to make fun of, racist/judgemental/sexist comments being used in everyday vernacular from all sorts of people about ppl not currently in the room, redneck Americans believing being American is a triumph, gay people hating gay people.....we are down to the core an intolerant and malicious group of people and the only thing that seems to unite everyone is our universal thirst to want to all feel important, be wealthy, and be liked.

Out of everyone I've ever known in my life, the people i've gotten the least understanding, acceptance and tolerance from are gay guys. Hands down. And I got seriously tired of being implied to that being closeted is the root of all my problems and coming out is this magical procedure to cure all things undesirable.

SOCIETY NEEDS TO STOP PRESSURING PPL TO COME OUT. IT DOESN'T WORK FOR EVERYONE IN EVERY SITUATION. NOT COMING OUT IS NOT BEING COWARDLY, IN A LOT OF CIRCUMSTANCES IT IS BEING SMART. FUCK SARAH B AND HER SONG

....I'm going to go back and reread my blog post 1000 times.

Football

Why do you insist to keep posting things that only further embarrass the already embarrassment that is Delaware College?

Careful about opening the site up to social media...might get a little cray cray when you have this surge of newbs and wanderers log on or whatever. Could be good tho, definitely profitable. GA ain't going anywhere near my FB.

I have bigger balls than almost every guy I've met. Guess I won't be a good dad

<3

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