Agent NoPants

fuckityfuckfuck

the next time anyone hears me talk about anything involving a relationship kill me.

chaw ricken

agentdoublepen: ur stoopit

agentnopants:i know but u love me

agentdoublepen:yeah there’s no accounting for my taste though lmao :D

agentnopants:well i’m glad ur taste buds like me

agentdoublepen:angels of death taste like chicken…

agentnopants: original recipe or extra crispy?

agentdoublepen:raw lol

this is not fucking katy perry

i’ve been kissing a girl lately. she’s soft and sexy and the best kisser in the world. it’s made me really realize that i am so outside of labels and expectations and all the other crap that we put on ourselves and everyone we come in contact with and oops! all those we don’t. i feel happy and not the least bit worried about what anyone will think. it’s so fucking stupid to narrow our minds, to think that our way is the only way. i’ve been attracted to this girl for months and for the longest time was like, whoa what the hell is this! then one day i stopped caring. i just let go. i’m falling but it doesn’t feel like falling it feels like floating. not like on cloud nine, but on freedom. it’s finally starting to feel like all the scattered pieces of myself are coming together and not because i’m grabbing at them trying to fit them together but because they are shifting around making room for each other. like how babies are born with the soft spot on their heads so that their skull can grow…my soul is GROWING. not because of the action of kissing a girl but due to the action of ALLOWING myself to kiss a girl ;) i’m starting to love, in the truest sense of the word, not in the selfish, i love you because of what you give me kinda way but in the i love you because you are a part of the universe and therefore a part of me kinda way. love is love as my roomate says.

what i don’t want in a man.

so Agent Double Penetration was telling her ex what kind of dog she wanted as he wants to buy her and her daughter a new dog, so she wrote up an email about the dog she wanted. the breed is rather expensive, but you can get a rescued one for cheaper. but knowing her ex as she does, she felt it necessary to include a list of what “rescued” did NOT mean. i thought it was hysterical and should be turned into what we did not want in a man. so here you go.

“F.Y.I.
“Rescued” will not fit the description of a [man] I will raise that: is retarded, is maimed, is uni/para/ or quadriplegic, has psychological or personality defects, is blind and/or deaf, is one that has more or less than its fair share of eyes/ears/legs/tails/faces/anus’s, walks backwards, is inside out, belonged to Michael Vick, was separated at birth from the “normal twin,” will only eat macaroni and cheese, steals from my purse, is missing internal organs other than the procedure for becoming spayed or neutered, needs constant medical care or has a catheter or intravenous port installed in it, understands only a foreign language that I don’t, has cancer/AIDS/Heartworm or some other deadly affliction, has been assembled from other animals like “catdog” or Rocky Horror, is suicidal, has google-ey or crossed eyes, is addicted to cigarettes/sex/drugs/alcohol, has killed things in its past or is so ugly it has been falsely imprisoned on the premise that it could have been La Chupa Cabra.  I don’t want a [man] that falls into any of these categories, or any others I might fall into, harsh as that may sound.”