Cock Block

Bedbug, you are a fucking killjoy.

It is bad enough that I fear for my life every time I appear in public, especially when I am on the subway in the heat of rush hour, pressed against the bodies of countless new yorkers about whom I have no proof of cleanliness. Shiver.

Thanks to you I avoid Brooklyn and Queens altogether. What with hipsters and immigrants, I will not risk it. And as for my mother who lives in Brooklyn, we spent four years apart in college, we can use this time to develop our separate interests.

I can handle all of these inconveniences like a champ.

What I can't handle is how you fuck with my head every single time I plan on fucking.

Think about it, who the fuck wants to fuck? Everybody! When? All the fucking time! Where? ON A FUCKING BED!

You fucking parasite. You got us all by the balls, literally sometimes, I imagine. You know I can't go for long without fucking, none of us can, and you have all the fucking patience in the world, don't you? Lying dormant in beds, no fucking food, for a year. You know we'll break, and then there you'll be, with your damned little pinchers, waiting to claw me as I'm thrusting away, right at that off-chance moment when my balls slap against the bed. Yeah, it be easier to bite me post-coitus. But that's too easy for you isn't you little shithead?

Oh so much, I hate you.

Do you know how many people I've turned down for fear of you? STDs are second on my mind! Imagine that shit, man.

I may have to start thwacking my sexual prey and dragging them into a forest somewhere, maybe central park.

You are the fucking Machiavelli of blocking cocks. Fuck you.