By jimihindranceexperience
I doubt I could handle another affair. My last one only involved my parts, not my heart, and that almost ruined me.
I LOVED being in LOVE. Of COURSE the sex was wonderful, we were in love.
This has been several sequels ago.
Anyway, I was young once, and sober, and conflicted, and tortured and a MOODY PRICK.
Leonard Cohen’s lyric, “It’s Lonely Here, There’s no one left to torture.”
Be in love with someone. Don’t go halfway. Give it everything.
This is terrible advice and leads to heartache and ruin, drug addled rampages and contemplation of contemplation.
Some of these thoughts are anachronistic re; when I wrote ‘em. This was before I was all political and all. Christ, I was still murdering dates back then.
It was the best of times, it was the fuggin’ most bitchin’ purpendicular sawtooth waves of a time. Meet somebody, at a drive thru or over some counter somewhere; sometimes get set up on a blind date.
Anyway, when I was through, I’d always be lookin’ through their sock drawer for something to strangle ‘em with . Knee highs really don’t cut it unless you knot ‘em together. Thigh highs are perfect but if she had thigh highs I had ‘em on shortly after she quit wiggling and shit herself in a puddle of horror and shame. So there she was, all undressed and unable to blow. Stinkin’ like she’d just been savagely murdered and left for her room mate, away for the weekend, to find on Sunday about 5 ish.
Oops! That’s my mom. Or my wife. I’m slippin’ through these cracks like nobody’s business today.
Dearest Diary, more SOON!!!
Marilyn’s got a pretty nice sweater in those videos.
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