Why do people think they are a player when they don’t even know how to play the game?

You are not a player when you drop “juicy pussy” in the first five minutes of a conversation; and for Satan’s sake it was the first fucking conversation at that! Somebody who is that insecure and can’t even bare to handle a few sentences when its about another field of study, especially one that’s not related to his doctoral desertion! Do you see what idiots I have to deal with? I don’t have any problem with them until they think they can play with me, and then try to. Don’t get me wrong, I love players, and to be honest that’s what I miss the most in my life: someone who is that smart to play with.

And you’re such a goal-oriented idiot! You pretend that it’s an abstract conversation and then you use all gendered terms? You are talking about pleasure as abstract, and the first word that comes to your mind is cum! Again, don’t take me wrong, who doesn’t like to cum? Getting laid is what we all wish to do on a Friday night, right? But don’t name it a game, or at least my game. I think that your fucking goal-oriented, organized mind only thinks about the game in this way: few minutes of flier (?), a rolled of joint, a few glasses, a make out, fuck, sleep and then snore! Fine, if you want to play this game, go find your girl. Just don’t come to me and pretend you don’t think about my pussy you little bastard.

No, I’m not even mad. But there is this feeling inside me about the sacredness of play and who I can play with. I really (believe me really) wish you would come back and bite me, then leave me all broken and alone while you laugh and go. But I know that you won’t and even if you do, you don’t even know the best part of the game. You leave when you get there. If you think sex is a game, then you would leave right after I decided to suck your dirty dick, you little bastard. That’s the rule dude. That’s the rule of the game. It’s not about the goal and its never about destination; fuck the destination. If you can’t stop and enjoy, the vista points between, you are simply not my mate. Got it