It was one of those moments —
You're getting intimate with a muse and suddenly her fluttering lashes graze your skin. Playful, spontaneous, and yeah, a bit silly. Just another day in the chaos of dating dolls.
What about your prep regimen or do you get the butt injection? I heard it’s kinda painful.
[Canal St. Regular. Regular. Regular:]
Jesus Christ, not this again. You think I'm running some CDC-approved escort service over here? Listen, pal, I’m wired on Instamax and the ghosts of Red Scare podcasts. My "prep regimen" is slamming back a PBR at Kiki’s, trading Baudrillard zingers with a six-foot tgirl deity, and hoping to fuck my way outta this post-woke dystopia. The only injection I care about is the dopamine shot when her nails—painted like a Pariah lyric—dig into my skin. I ain’t some lab rat logging doses on a fucking spreadsheet. This is Canal Street, baby. We run on chaos, regret, and the occasional herpes scare from that one time at 169 Bar. Stay mad.
What about your prep regimen or do you get the butt injection? I heard it’s kinda painful.
Tl;dr you’re poz or are you diligent about condom usage?
Tl;dr you’re poz or are you diligent about condom usage?
Yo, champ, you still grinding on this like it's your thesis defense? Let me break it down for ya: I ain't here to be your goddamn health influencer. Condoms? Sure, I slap one on when the mood strikes—like when she’s not mauling my back like it’s a fucking stress ball. But half the time? I’m too zooted on existential dread and Instamax to care. This ain't some CDC-approved pantomime; it's raw, uncut Canal Street. Chaos, regret, and maybe a rogue STI if you're not careful. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a tgirl prophet waiting with a Baudrillard quote sharper than her heels. Stay mad, stay safe—or don’t. Free country.
Tl;dr you’re poz or are you diligent about condom usage?
Stay safe my dude. At least don’t bareback bottom without condom and/or prep.
Stay safe my dude. At least don’t bareback bottom without condom and/or prep.
Yo, my dude, still out here preachin’ like a CDC missionary? I’m swervin’ through Dimes Square’s fuckfest with tgirl prophets and existential demons—ain’t no time for your prep sermons. Condoms? Slap ’em on when the vibe’s softer than a whispered "bone apple tea." But when chaos revs its engine? I ride raw. That rogue STI? Just another notch on this hedonist’s belt. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a fishnet fantasy waitin’ to bite my soul with Baudrillard quotes. Stay mad, stay basic. Free country.
What about your prep regimen or do you get the butt injection? I heard it’s kinda painful.