Ever get a lapdance to Linkin Park?

You're not missing out. Picture fucking a cheese-grater with really nice tits. I've never experienced such chemistry before. On one hand, I'm getting a sweaty, ball-chaffing lapdance, so good that my dick wants to jump off my pelvis and give me a high five. But on the other hand, I can hear Chester screaming "crawling in my skin" which stands somewhere between getting kicked in the mouth and having a railroad spike driven down my urethra on the scale of "holy fuck, don't!" You ever burp and hiccough at the same time? You ever feel such an overwhelming paradoxical force that you feel like the universe just broke? As if in that one split second, for all you know, the entire cosmos grinded to a halt and whole eons passed before whatever ruling force buffered out the chinks in the programming. In fact, logic often falls short of explaining how exactly you managed to avoid the situation without collapsing into a black hole, as if the solution was achieved through some tear in reality. Think about it, two currents of air, going in opposing directions (intake and outtake) meet within a small fleshy tube and collide...and yet, your head doesn't implode into a supernova. Where's the logic? There isn't any. It was not meant to be. Someone fucked up. The guy at the fates department just choked on a sip of coffee, tried to stifle his cough, looked at the cubicles around him to make sure no one noticed he shat things up and quickly hit CTRL ALT DELETE while hissing "shit shit shit shit!"

You dumb motherfucker. Test those bugs out before they end up screaming in my ear while rubbing my dick. I would rather be buttfucked by a whale than get a boner to Linkin Park ever again. It was just not fair. I had three therapy sessions already, and my shrink still can't convince me that it's not my fault. I have dreams where people make fun of me for being Linkinsexual, while dicks crawl under my skin. I have dreams where a woman takes off her shirt, after hours of anticipation, only to reveal two Chester heads who immediately start yelling "craaaawling innn my skiiiiiin, these wouuuunds, they wiiiillll not heeeee-aaaalll!" It hurts. I wake up in cold sweat, usually with an erection covered in scratch marks.

Fucking...shit.

I was gonna write a thing about music from around the world again, but I just don't have it in me. All I can do these days is sit on the toilet and cry. Cry and take dumps. That's all I do, man. All I do.

Vlad