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Belieb It Or Not.

You know how I know I need to get laid? I had a dream that I was fucking Justin Bieber. Justin. Fucking. Bieber. Well, he was actually fucking me but that’s besides the point. Regardless, this is whoreable on so many accounts that I don’t even know where to begin. Oh, I know. How about the fact that this would practically make me a pedophile in my dreams?! Or the fact that he’s lesbian. Lastly, IT’S FUCKING JUSTIN BIEBER. He even had a backwards hat on in my dream for fucks sake.

Mr. Sandman is definitely a disgruntled ex-boyfriend of mine, because only an asshole like that would have me dream about banging The Biebs and not Robin Thicke, or Justin Timberlake, or even Macklemore. Justin Bieber is probably the ONLY white guy that thinks he’s black that I DON’T want to bang.

The worst part is I can remember this dream quite vividly. BUT WHY THOUGH? I never remember any of my good dreams. Like the one about T.I. during my Rubberband Man phase. Yet, I remember that Bieber was shirtless and smiling at me with a chain hanging from his neck. I even remember how it felt when his 19-year old penis went inside of me (not so great btw).

Don’t get me wrong, I do not hate Justin Bieber. At all. Me and my mom actually got into a little tiff over him one day and I whole-heartedly defended him, so all you fanatics can put away the death threats. It’s just that. I mean, LOOK AT HIM. No matter how grown and brolic he gets, he will always be this little kid brushing his teeth in the mirror to me. I’m sure some of my younger(er) readers think he’s hot, and I get it. But sorry folks, I’m a non-belieber.

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Intimacy. Licking your brain, while massaging mine. Exploring you inside and out. Becoming one then two then one again. Feeling you. Tasting you. Loving you. Lingerie and tailored suits, sundresses an

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