By thunderfucmclovin
To fuck(again) or not to fuck, that is the question. It is derived from the simple fact that college students are incredibly bad at moderation. Whether it is weed, pet rats, or Twitter music trends, we simply do not know when to stop. The same is true for sex. Now, of course, even one sex before marriage will destroy any ounce of piety and purity you have somehow retained at the Godforsaken “Groovy U,” but I know you, water tower reader. You are a heathen beyond salvation, and so rather than preach to you I thought I could give you some practical advice on how to live an enjoyable life before you descend into hell.
The scope of the question of much fuckery should be happen’n is not over a week, a month, nor a year, but rather a single night. Because damnation cums whether you have one sex or many, there is no practical difference between the one and the many over long periods of time. However, when the span of time is shortened to one evening, even one extra sex can ruin your night and possibly much more. The consequences of not knowing when enough is enough can manifest in two ways: physical pain and unfettered embarrassment.
In terms of pain, let me explain an analogous situation. Let’s say, for the sake of the argument, that you enjoy running (I know what you’re saying, but Thunderfuc I’m not a psychopath! I know, just bear with me). Let’s also say that your average run goes about 2 miles. One day, you think to yourself I can do more! I can do anything! Wow, cocaine is amazing! and you decide to run 10 miles. When you finish that run your knees will be weak, your palms will sweaty, and it is quite likely that you will throw up your mom’s spaghetti. The same is true for sex!
Imagine (ladies, I know this may be hard) that you cum one too many times. What do you think comes next? Post-nut clarity? Cuddles? An epiphany about what the fuck Immanuel Kant meant in literally any single one of his books? No, that was earlier when you weren’t covered in cold sweats. Now you are curled up in the fetal position, rocking back and forth, wishing you had listened to your Mom when she suggested you bring your old inhaler “just in case.” And right as your body settles down, you hear “Are you okay?” The embarrassment washes over you as you realize your partner is still there! You mean to ask them if they want any water or Welch’s Fruit Snacks but all you can manage is youkjdfdfnkjbd as your eyes close and you fall asleep. They are not there when you awake, and neither are your fruit snacks.
I do not wish this kind of physical and emotional pain on my worst enemy or even Suresh Garimella. And it is so easy to avoid! All you have to do is not fuck. Throw on an episode of the Joe Rogan Experience and you won’t be fucking for a while because you’re partner will be incredibly disgusted by you, it’s that simple! Please everyone, just practice some fucking self-control (see what I did there).
The answer is to never have sex and never feel anything.
Categories: around town, November 3, 2020