…but we must now accinge ourselves to other less agreeable considerations.

[…] I was still really horny but my lust wasn't directed at anyone in particular it was sort of a generalized desire maybe my standards were too high but after a while the thought of fucking another one of those stuck up pomo boho artfags really turned my stomach […]

Half-a-dozen dreadfully common young bicyclists were commenting on her discomfiture with delighted exclamations of ‘Giddy old Kipper’, ‘Sweet Seventeen’, ‘Cheero, Maudie—you'll win!’

But this should not lead to complete avoidance, as if it is like some dire incursion of triffids or ents.