SOMEBODY NICE SHOULD LIVE NEXT DOOR

On the way home I passed three sleeping beauties in only two blocks. The first was the shiny faced black dude, whose sign proclaims "I like pussy", with which he expresses the hope that people will open their wallets and give generously. Fund his fancy, as it were.
The second was a man whose understanding of architectural overhangs left him subject to excessive moisture, and the third was hiding out in the doorway of the dildo store.

["I like pussy" is a sentiment that I too can get behind. But that does not mean that I will advertise it on a sign. I am a hesitant individual and don't publicly state such things.]

When I left the house a few hours ago it had been mildly inclement, but as soon as I turned the corner it came splattering down, torrents, almost a tropical monsoon storm. I was committed, and soldiered on.
I was soaked when I arrived at my destination.

As the curvaceous and sober Mongolian woman explained, "you're still young in your mind". She was right, but my body told me "no".

[Curvaceous and sober Mongolian woman: charming, and despite nearly two bottles of wine still in charge of herself, stable on her pins, and sane. Respect. And she was rather luscious, but one dare not presume. Too Russian for comfort. Red form-fitting dress.]

My body says I need heat. And dryness.
Or, at the right time, moisture.
Wet, hot, dry.


Sometimes I wish I could take the bottle of Aveeno 24-hour moisturizing lotion with me to bed. But only for the itchy ancient ectoderm.


Smooth. Silky. Moist. Very much like beefsteak.


The most selfish thing that anyone can do is to bring a large bucket of fried chicken for themselves to the karaoke bar and EAT IT ALL!
None for the rest of us, Even though we have to listen to that stuff.
Not a scrap. Selfish bastard!

Three people sleeping outside on a cold Autumn night.
They did not hear the screaming at karaoke.
Still, I would not call them lucky.




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