cosmo tip #457
If a boy sends you a picture of his penis, send him a picture of a bigger penis.
Personally, I really loved the finale. I think it’s incredibly admirable how Agent Maria Hill is so dedicated to her job that she’s willing to put up with being constantly creeped on by a guy who will not accept that this relationship is never happening even after nearly two decades, all to keep an eye on the reformed Willow Rosenburg and that shifty Dr. Horrible fellow. It was a shame how her junior agent couldn’t take it anymore and had to fake her own death so she could be reassigned, but can you blame her for getting out of that hot mess as soon as possible?
I’ll keep this short.
The sitch: There’s a blood donor clinic at my school this week.
Now, I’ve never given blood before. Put it off for various reasons - the last time because my tattoo was too new. So, I’ve been thinking I should get around to giving blood.
The problem: I read the sample questionnaire.
I read through the set of questions that each donor is asked prior to donation. Now, I already am aware of the issues surrounding the prohibition of gay men donating blood, but now I’m aware of some more. Specifically, there are a number of questions regarding whether donors have ever paid for or been paid for, in money or with drugs, for sex.
Now, I understand that there may be an assumption that sex workers are more like to be at risk for sexually transmitted infections, like HIV, HOWEVER the questionnaire already includes questions about sexual partners with unknown histories. Also, there are separate questions about drug use.
Basically: questions about paying/being paid for sex come with a moral/ethical judgement. It’s not a health issue.
At least I don’t think so, not is this context.
Result: I’m conflicted about giving blood, again.
oh, that’s cute Westboro Baptist Church.
you don’t want to disclose where your founders funeral is going to take place. why? because a funeral is a personal thing, a mourning period for families and friends? you’d hate to have people angered by your beliefs and your practices protest your funeral, wouldn’t you?
The craziest part of this is I talk about you.
I talk about being in love with you. I talk about being happy that you’re happy. I talk about how I don’t hate her. I talk about falling for you and it not coming together.
And then I talk about someone else.
But I don’t know what I want from him; with him.
I know I love you.
like goddamn clockwork, tuesday night = a break down.
and I don’t have time for this shit.
I have a presentation to write for 9:30 tomorrow morning.
Had a really good weekend. Hung out with old friends. Made new friends; slept with one of them.
aaaaand now I keep replaying bits of the night/next morning in my head.
Mostly good things…except I feel like I might’ve talked his ear off a bit that morning.
Overall, I don’t do anything resembling commitment, but the oxytocin in my brain is making me a little giddy, and if we had the chance to hang out again I wouldn’t turn it down.