Article: 178406 of talk.bizarre
From: (Eamon Daly)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: virgin (fail to suck entry)
Date: 1 Dec 1994 04:46:41 GMT
Organization: Boston University
Lines: 63
Message-ID: <3bjkfh$>
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL0]
Status: O

"eamon? could you do the dishes?"

sure, i could DO the  dishes.  no problem. i  love
DOING dishes. funny jibe,  that. poking fun at  my
virginity      in   your   oh-so-subtle tones   of
amusement. try to cover up your mirth a bit better
under that  domestic  motherly voice, dear--  i'll
try to pretend that  i can't hear what  you really

"there's soap under the sink."

so i  don't  get you  slick enough? is  that it? i
don't get you hot enough?   i don't tell you those
disgusting slimy  whorish things you  want to hear
and  have heard before?  tough.  i don't say those
things because i don't KNOW   them, okay? i  can't
whisper dirty  somethings  in your  ear  because i
know nothing. have had nothing.

"the machine is on the fritz, so you'll have to do
 them by hand."

like i haven't been  doing  it by hand for  years.
as if i don't know every vein  and every curve and
every  line on the  back   of  my hand like   your
taunting smile. perhaps i'll  forget my lover like
yesterday's  torment  once i do   the deed,  but i
doubt it. because i  have you, don't i?   my prude
little  whore.  always   declining  when i  press,
always respectful of my fragile virginity.

"eamon? are you listening? use the sponge."

why bother?  i  will never  have  children. i will
never have a   future. i can't  support us married
and so i can't  support your weight bouncing on my
abdomen.  and so i  sleep alone with you beside me
and i  will   never know the  horrible feeling  of
reaching into the bedside and realizing that there
are no condoms left.


i've  never  had to hide  myself   from you or  my
parents or the  68   year  old lady   behind   the
drugstore  counter who, i'm  sure,  gossips to all
the other pharmacists    that  i've never   bought
trojans     in  the  twenty     years she's worked
there. and not a blemish on  my shining white soul
though  i'd  like to stain  it   deep and dark and


and there would be no one who  could to scrub that
marring away, my dear. and damn you for keeping me

                                                      i hate netscape. <blink>
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