Okay, I'm going to get personal here. I am performing an experiment. I am trying to not touch myself for 1 week.

I have completed Day 2. From now on I will chronicle each day.

BACKGROUND:

I enjoy amusing my lower body. I really do. I am vivacious and voracious in my appetites. If I could, I would have sex 6 times per day. It's weird, but my sex drive is greater now than when I was a teenager. So now you know how hard this will be for me. Heh, heh. Hard.

HYPOTHESIS:

I think that I will succeed and I will be more productive, spending my time doing important stuff like making up new poop jokes for you instead of hunting the internet for 15 second video clips featuring bouncing body parts.

DAY 1:

With all my extra time spent not squeezin' it, I did something I have not done in many years. I looked up the lyrics to a song and sang along with it. Great song. "Alphabetical Slaughter" by Papoose. That was fun!

And I didn't even feel like a dirty filth-ball after doing it!

The real test was bedtime. How am I going to get to sleep?

I had an exhausting day, so I was really tired. I lay down to bed and think about baseball. I imagine the greatest New York Mets team taken from players 1980 until today. I have a spirited debate in my mind: Who should be the starting catcher: Mike Piazza or Gary Carter?

My mental exercise is interrupted by thoughts of a threesome with a hot girl I hooked up last summer. She only recently revealed to me that she has participated in a threesome. Threesome. Oh! Dammit!

I fall asleep.

DAY 2

I wake up with a ferocious boner. I so want to take care of this.

SIDE NOTE: I used to live with a woman who caught me smackin' it. More than once.

HER: Why do you masturbate? ME: To relieve stress. HER: Why do you have so much stress?!!! ME: Well, it could have something to do with you constantly interrupting my masturbation.  

I make pee-pee. I am more calm now.

I notice I am getting tingly down there from every little thing such as

- a quick flash of Jennifer Lopez's butt on television

- a busty woman in a commercial

- the word "nurse"

It's like I'm 13 again.

Today I organized my sock drawer. I am losing my mind. I'm not sure if I'm being more productive. But I am sure that I am getting cranky. Heh, heh. Cranky.

I had a date for tonight but she canceled. It's for the best since I would have dry-humped her leg as a greeting.

God help me. Two days down, five to go.

If some poor girl comes home with me before the week is up, I feel bad for her because she is going to get RAILED. I know that's not romantic but it's the truth. RAILED. There will be grunting and sweating and hair-pulling.

Okay. It defeats the purpose of trying to be more productive by not touching myself if I spend all day writing about how I'm not touching myself.

Wish me luck.