Putting my cum-soaked sheets into the washing machine, I began to wonder how many other cum-soaked sheets are put into the washing machine on a daily, monthly, even yearly basis. I still cringe at the thought; even though there are only 8 apartments in my complex, that poor washing machine must be a veritable stew of human bodily fluids. I'll bet the residue alone is virulent enough to impregnate an 80-year old woman and give her 3 different strains of herpes at the same time.

No no no.

That's not at all the way to begin today's entry.

Satan: That's really fuckin' gross man. Why don't you talk about what you got in the mail today?

Tom: The invitation to Cheryl and Aaron's wedding?

Satan: Sure.

Tom: What is there to say? One of my best friends is getting married to a woman who truly loves him. I'm happy for them.

Satan: Bullshit. Tell the world how you really feel.

Tom: Well shit, I dunno...My first memory of Cheryl is from back at the house on Maryland Street. I walked up, she said, "Hi, I'm Cheryl", I introduced myself, and she's been just that friendly ever since.

Satan: But...

Tom: But Aaron, on the other hand, is a total loss. For eight years I've done what I could for the boy but alas, come October 26th, he's out of my hands.

Satan: Yikes...