Fucking is so 2011. I'm all about kissing in 2012. Give me a good pout, and I'll give myself a chapped chin over that shit. I love a good make-out, preferably after a halfie of tequila and an ass slap. I'm not scared of little laryngitis, or the common cold, let's get to it. Does one even need a prescription for a Z-Pak these days anyway? One thing that will stop me in my tracks, however, is a cold sore. That will disorient me like a contact ripping. Ouch, it burns. I have to put on my glasses and jammies for comfort.
We've all experienced bad kissers at one time or another. At my age, I am shocked every time I encounter one. How can someone get to their late 20's to 30's with no one letting these lepers know any better? I blame manners. You know, sometimes good manners are a bad thing. Blaming ending a relationship or fling on opposite schedules, or not being in a good place, is one thing if the person is a good kisser, fine. Dance around that. Now, if that dude or gal is a shitty kisser, I might hate you. You are ruining it for everyone. Let them know, damnit. Coach a bitch. Tell her to stop trying so hard with her protruding top lip and those weird faces. Tell your dude to chill with the phallic tongue jamming. Come on, let's work together on this. These are the things that will make Austin even more of a utopia than it already is, I promise.
Maybe identifying some of these accusables will help with cleansing and growth:
Popsicle kissers. You know when your sibling used to mock you grandparents when they took out their dentures? The soft lip over the gum look. Dudes, don't do this. Popsicle kissers have a soft, dry pout that gently presses up against yours over and over again. There's no tongue present, not lip grabbing, it's pretty much bobbing for apples on each other's face. If you're going to bob for apple's, you better have a exorbitantly large mouth. That's all I have to say.
Deep breaths. I hope I can get through this.
I don't have a problem with smoking, I like a good cigarette every now and again. Sometimes, I like 10, but whatever. I am also a fan of a good ol fashioned blunt or apple bong, who isn't? The problem, like with any other vice, are the dudes and gals who lose their mind. If you smoke a dickton throughout the night and your mouth looks like you haven't had a sip of water in decades, then we have a massive problem. This is velcro tongue. If I can feel your taste buds sliding in my mouth with the texture of a Mexican iguana, then you might find out what it's like to have a Mexican vomit down your throat.
I need my glasses and jammies, again. That was rough.
One thing you should know about me is that I get motion sickness easily. My Tia Lupe had a long Mexican station wagon (multi-colored, no AC, cerveza in console) she used to take me to Sunday school in. I would vomit, or have to hold my vomit, on many occasions. I also threw up chunks of watermelon on the deck while deep sea fishing when I was young tot. Needless to say, I am no stranger to Dramamine. Dudes who swirl their tongues excessively, thinking it's some kinky wait-til-she-gets-a-load-of-my-swirling-cock move, take me to that place. I can't keep up with that shit. If kissing you reminds me of a hot Mexican station wagon, and watermelon vomit, then we're probably done.
There are a couple other moves that need to be retired. The 3 Doors Down (tongue ring seduction) comes to mind. Still?? Really? That, and West 6th St. kissers. West 6th St. kissers try too hard with their dry eyeballs wide open, waiting for you to reaffirm their sexual prowess. No blinks, just cokehead pupils and dry sclarae.
Let's band together to clean up these streets. Agreed? If I need to put together a seminar or some shit at ACC, I will.
**When I said fucking was so 2011, I was kidding, ok?
i second you on putting an end to the Abyss kisser! nothing is worse than a neck spasm from a blow to the lips!
ReplyDeletegood one!
xoxoxo