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OldHippieChick wrote

That didn't work either.

No matter how many people scream at me that my vagina is not a clown car and no matter how hard I try to remember, fapping just isn't going to help. I can masturbate until kittens grow on my palms, but it will never, ever take the place of a friend who knows me so well that I can call them at 3 O'clock in the morning drunk and hysterical and threatening to off myself unless they find me some funny videos of clown cars RIGHT NOW.

It just ain't gonna happen.

I'll never have a friend like that.

So I have to wash this snot off the shoulder of this empty shirt myself, type "clown cars" into my own search engine, and bellow my own off key rendition of "Send In The Clowns" even though we both know it sucks and Judy Collins can do much better.

I don't personally see Mr./Ms. Right Hand as being all that significantly different than my $50 Craig's List GEEEE-tar.

Go ahead and fap; it's okay; your penis isn't all that different from my next-door neighbour's religion:

It's FINE to have one. It's perfectly okay to be proud of it. I hope you find somebody else to share it with someday who loves it even more than you do. As long as you aren't waving it around in public or trying to shove it down my kid's throat, there simply isn't a problem.

No worries; fap away. Da childernz are fine.