I hate cuddling. Then I remembered last night, I was so drunk. I woke her up while kissing her and she was trying her best to remember me coz she was ...runk like me. Oh, that scene was so hilarious.I left her apartment and went home. When I reached home I remembered that I didn’t even know her name. It was an awful feeling. Not that I didn’t remember the name. But her name never came up. And in the same condition, I was thinking and I have an idea that why should I not treat myself a fuck with a. If you don't write it down, it didn't happen. And that writing a journal was a great way to talk myself through issues. What she didn't say was that I would be able to read this in my old age, because I might not get much older. I took some psych courses and know that this is also a stress management exercise. So let me put some stress on the paper.After Mom left, Carol had me go with Candy and a few other women through the processing center, just like I had before. But there was a difference.. ”She showed me where the kitten was and explained the game plan to me. Together we carried the ladder over to the tree, I stood it up, and then I managed to extend it up to the branch where the kitten was sitting and meowing.I stepped back and let Jessica climb up a couple of steps when her mother said, “You better hold it for her. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt.”I held the ladder and started to watch her climb. Soon her skirt line was just above my head and I had a clear and close look at her. ‘Ben, what the hell is going on?’ Carmen in a concerned, yet slightly agitated tone as she settled herself in the seat. ‘After . . . you, ‘left’ last Saturday, I was so . . . ‘excited’ that I sought out someone who might help ‘alleviate’ my condition.’ Benita started out carefully. ‘What? Talk plainly, Ben,’ Carmen replied, slightly flustered. ‘I was horny so I found someone to fuck,’ Benita curtly replied in a lowered tone of voice. ‘What? Who?’ Carmen asked curiously, now leaning in..