an excerpt from the lonely guy's diary

"""

Coming home after a long day of work. Most of nervous energy built up from a day of chucking down coffee has drained completely from the semi-hour commute.

Looking through his inbox, he did not find the email that he has been eagerly anticipating from the most beautiful girl he's ever met... The girl, that has occupied his cranial cavities for these eternal days.

Not that he was expecting anything, after writing to her while very drunk some days ago.

Maybe it's in spam box... some very important emails has come through to him in the spam box before.

Alas, but it was not to be. Gmail apparently has gotten this spam thing down good.

gently, he felt every piece of his body, in a rare moment of cohesion sighed together.

"sighhhhhhhhh"

Without the strength to open a bottle of beer. He is home, sober.

Without the courage to patronize a high quality drug dealer, he is home, lucid.

Without the social skills to befriend a hooker, he is home, alone.

He collapses onto his sofa. His most dear sofa, so soft, so reliable, always reassuringly there, always, when ever he needed it;

so soft, he can feel every single fabric, with every fiber of his being;

so close, he can smell every single drop of sweat, blood, tear, and..., well, and other things originating from his body, but only his body--so shockingly refreshing, he amaze even himself some times;

so firm, he feels like silk table cloth fallen onto a naked table, so fittingly placed, his body draped, also naked, looking like a crooked big from ceiling;

so sexy, he can feel sofa's arousal, groaning, moaning, sinuously heaving under him, "oh! ohh!!, oooohh!!!", harder! sit harder!!! she moans, lower!!! sit yet lower!!! stroke my legs with your foul feet, put your hand between my cushions, harder!! deeper!! longer!!! 'aaawwwwwh!!!! Fill me!!! fill me!!!!! fill all my crevices!!!!"

so dominating, this large creature, enchanted by passion, possessed by evil, looms about him, over powering him! Sitting on him, he, kneeling, facing away, his arms, also bound, behind him, his head, held by the comfort of the cushion! bent backward, like the figurehead statue at head of an ancient boat on it's maiden voyage--but without the admirably extruding bosoms, taught, wrung, dripping, the last drips of black, potent vital coffee.

A scream, so foreign, sounding as if from an unknown source, horrifying, in ecstasy:

"hocus pocus!! abracadabra aparecium alakazam, colloportus confundo, erecto expecto expelliarmus, incantatem, preto, presto, presto!"

And the spell is lifted....

He lies face down, legs still buried under her to the knees, emaciated, inanimate,

It would appear, when he uttered the stop-words, it would not only turn off that which loves him dearest, but it would also disable his soul.

......


This all just goes to show the quality of top google search result in his quest for love, for he is left without the wit to feel like the unluckiest guy on this whole cursed internet.

....

"what about me?" a timid voice arose, and scared the bejesus out of the narrator...

It would appear, that this is his lucky day, because the sofa's smaller sister, the love seat is still steaming, hot with all the magic of the night...

"""


narrator: "ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ! it's a twin sofa!!!"