Good day everyone. It's Ethan here, and I've finally forgiven my little Poppadoo (and that's Popanator to all of you). I'm afraid I owe the world an explanation as to why I've hurt her so much. You see, I have this issue when it comes to cheating. I've been cheated on in the past, and frankly I consider my lady to be mine and no one else's. When Pop told me that she and my grandmum had been together, I felt as if I'd been disrespected greatly. Only Pop's fist and my own should ever go up her arse, you know? That's the kind of special bond that a man and a woman should share only with each other, I say. I know, terribly old fashioned, but that's my way. Ethan the fuddy duddy.
At any rate, I tried to comfort myself in the arms of some two bit nothing girl- not the same, not even close. Her bum hole was nothing compared to the sweet, musky, aromatic arse that belongs to my Popanator. To call anything less a travesty is to put it mildly. I actually found myself weeping a bit during "the act." Then I wiped away my tears with my shite-stained fist, and the dark lines under my eyes made me look a bit like a gridiron player. Being without my Pop chilled my heart, my rectum and my colon. Without her, there can be no poop.
After the party, I stumbled home in a drunken stupor. I didn't even notice her present in my bed at first. Then I smelled her, and felt I must be having an alcohol induced hallucination. Then I looked down, and saw the shape of a heart in feces, on my chest. At that point, I realized that she'd meant me no harm. I had to have her back. Unfortunately, I under-estimated how intoxicated I was, and bumped my head on the night stand. But when I recovered consciousness, I went straight to her home and confessed my sorrow at giving her up.
From now on, Pop's holes
belong to me.
