The dangers of being alone

Drycember continues, and as the four of us return home for Christmas, I find my self at home, alone and bored. Normally, this would be an opportunity that would not go to waste - within 5 seconds of the house being empty I'd be busy scrolling through a porn site to find a satisfactory video. Naked women would scroll before my eyes in a flurry of breasts and vaginae and the slumbering snake that resides between the two southern boulders would awake and stretch towards the sun.

Not today, however. Nor tomorrow, or the day after. That isn't to say the snake doesn't wave up, no sir. As soon as he is perked up, he begins the mind control which I have fallen victim to so many times before, but I am a different man now. I battle back, willing him to lie down, play dead, roll over.

The moral support of having fellow drycember-ers in the same building was invaluable. Egged on by others' success, my resolve was a solid steel shutter, a barrier to the stimulus that made me want to stimulate myself. Now, as we reach the tough part of the month, we are ripped from each other and cast about the country to fend for ourselves. 

It turns out I lied in a previous post - the true battle had not began days ago. It starts today.

So ronery