Sick.
Sick sick sick sick sick...
Sick in the HEAD.
Man, I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I think the things that I think. Why I do the things that I do, or feel the things that I feel. Why, for example, do I have a hard-on for Tori Spelling? Why? Why a hard-on for Tori Spelling? Donna!?! It's wrong.
Though I have never been a fan of 90210, and have not seen even one of her Lifetime movies, the name; "Tori Spelling" was the first thing that I searched for on the internet. When I found what I was looking for -- trashy pictures of the scrawny bug-eyed object of my twisted desires -- I abused my body imediately & shamelessly, with my own glassy eyes fixated intently on my 16 bit pervo-portal.
When the filthy deed was done & over with, I was gratified, yet not satisfied.
From that point on, every chance I got, I scoured the net, & the magazine racks, for as many pics of Tori Spelling as I could find.
The only copy of STUFF magazine I've ever bought in my whole life had Tori Spelling on the cover, posing awkwardly in a yellow bikini; painfully thin with bulging ocularum staring blankly out at me, beckonning. I was practically drooling at the check-out counter. There was a whole Tori spread inside the magazine, & once I got it home, all alone, the auto-sexual self abuse began without hesitation, all sense of human dignity gone. Yet, a sense of human wonder remained.
Myself, my friends, & in paticular my girlfriends, wondered if my brain had gone completely soft. What, in the name of all things unholy, could I possibly see in Tori Spelling.
"She's f*cking HOT!" was the best I could come up with, suddenly reverting to my most articulate teen-aged trogolodilic form.
"She's all FAKEY!" my so-called friends might reply, disgusted by my obvious psycho-sexual mental problems, "Fake tits, fake nose, fake lips. She's totally GROSS."
"NO WAY!!!" I spit back, angry & embarrassed, but getting hornier (even as I write this), "That's all 100% Tori, Man!!! Well, maybe the nose... and possibly the tits... are fake... but still... (now wiping the foetid slobber from my slack-jawed grin) She's HOT."
Every interview I've read with Tori stresses that she is super nice, and super eager, almost desperate, to please. These are qualities that I can really exploit in a person, so I feel like we'd make a good match.
I know a guy who says that he met Tori Spelling in a bar in LA once. He said he was hammered, so she was kinda freaked out by him, but that she was all alone, and "really short." When I heard this, I was on fire, in my pants.
Alone?!? Short???
I'm short too! And relieving the ladies of life's lonliness is not only my forte, but my specialty as well, & one of my favorite things to do.
Of course, with this new-found knowledge about Tori's apparent lack of height & a date, I abused my body straight away, but with renewed enthusiasm, for in my sad, enfeabled mind, I now had "a chance" at "hooking-up" with my "celebrity" sweetheart.
I wrote her an e-mail, but I guess she never got it, because she didn't write back. Or maybe she's just really busy. She's a work-a-aholic on the set, y'know!
One time. I even started writing a TV show "treatment" which would star Tori as Tori being Tori, but I don't know a Goddamn thing about writing a TV show, so I gave up, & just grafted her head onto porn-star bodies in photoshop instead (something I know a thing or two about).
Another time, I even designed a series of Tori dress-up dollies, called "Totally Tori," but I knew before I finished that they were only suited for my own craven "play-time," & would never see the shelves of any toy store anywhere.
Sigh... I still have a hard-on for Tori Spelling, for, like 10 years now. I know it's not right, & that I'm a demented pervert. My loved ones will be quick to remind me of that fact, should I ever forget. But, I don't care. I'm still holding out, hoping against hope that one day, some way, I will meet up with, get down with, and drop my dirty love bomb on Tori Spelling's ass, hair, or sweater.
