The Other Side of 1/4

26 orgasm-free days. Oh. What. A. Feeling. I thought for a change of pace (verbal irony) we'd explore some more of the obstacles in my way to the worst case of blue balls since 18 year-olds started to go to strip clubs thinking they had a chance with the dancers. "Oh, baby, I love when you look at me like that," you know, with your cock in your pants and your wallet in her hands. Nevertheless, here we go:

Kittens. Soft and furry, cute little heads with their big eyes looking up at me, especially when the packaging they come in is boobs with the slightest hint of a tanline. Kittens could be the death of this project. They could indeed. 

Women's Track and Field. Two words, dickbags: Leryn Franco. The Paraguayan track star could grasp my javelin anytime she wants, no really, I'm pretty sure she could straight kick my ass (like I'd mind anyway). Any sport that has as a component an event that has the word pole in the title (not pole cat, you hillbilly sister banger) is A-OK by me, which brings me to Erika Prezerakou. I don't know if she's any good at vaulting poles but <insert 'working a pole' joke here>, know what I'm sayin' LOL, LOL. Right? Ugh. And don't even get me started on Olympic swimmers. Alright, I'll just say it: Haley Cope is so fucking hot I want to punch her in the stomach. There I said it. Feel good about yourself, Natalie Portman?

Cycle Spinning Class. I'm not saying the girl next to me in the class last night was in the room naked, I'm just saying that she didn't spend a second in my head wearing anything but the pigtail braids on her head and the eye makeup on her, ah, eyes (shut up). Not to mention the damn bike seat. It wasn't particularly sexy or anything like that, but all day today I had to keep adjusting my boxer briefs (a little something for my lady followers) because it felt like I had been straddling a picket fence all damn day. My taint hasn't felt that bad since the summer I spent at that sleep-away camp in New Hampshire, those jewish kids really knew how to inflict some pain with their lacrosse sticks. What? Get your mind out of the gutter. Monkey Boner, as always, you are excused, sweety.

Harry Potter. Emma “Hermione” Watson is 18. London Bridges are wonderful. To borrow from the Urban Dictionary (no, Gavin, I mean urban, if I meant black I would have said black): The true "London Bridge" occurs when two girls are being done doggy style, facing each other and making out while the two lucky men high five over them. That's one extra cock than the usual good kind of threesome would seem to indicate, but it's extra cool 'cause of the high-5. Just call me an Anglophile I guess. I said ANGLOPHILE. Clean out your eyes, you fucking jackass. Sheesh.

Friends of Mine Talking About Showering Together. Ok, first of all, it was a couple, a straight couple (Jimmy, that means a guy and a girl. Showering together just means a hug. Why are your parents letting you read this? Go to bed.) Now, admittedly it wasn’t the thought of these two showering that made me take a situp break specifically, but rather the memory of showering with girls in the past. There is nothing in this world quite like hugging a soaking wet girl while your cock is hard so that it rubs up against her undercarriage. Uh oh, situp break...Ok. I'm just saying, showering-banging a chick is right up there with the Screendoor Kitten, the Flying Camel, and the Grunting Porkchop (Petunia). Just for planting the thought in my head, Christine and Sidney get Poo Fling. Fuck you very much, douche-fags.

Alright, my hand is tired, so I'm going to stop typing. Since I stopped "vaulting my pole" (felt forced, eh, fuck you) the muscles in my forearms have begun to atrophy. What does that say about me self-pleasure habits? Only that I used to do it right. 

See you fuckers around.

Danny Hammer signing off.