Monday, April 30, 2007

Skeletons in the closet

Skeletons in the closet. Who has skeletons? I have demons and succubi. Skeletons are dead; my closet is filled with both nasty and beautiful wriggly slimy wet angry monsters with long sharp teeth... and I'm not afraid of them. What I am afraid of is them getting out and making my life painful. Skeletons are tame... they can't do anything but sit there and grin at you.

I started to write about one of them, but I realized that there's no reason to. I can just smile at him and pat him on the head and push him back into the closet with the rest of the gang. Introducing him to people doesn't do anything for me, so there's no point.


Sometimes I think I'm overly introspective. It's like I'm looking at my inner self, and my inner self yells "Quit staring at me!" Nosce te ipsum, I think back. He crosses his arms and glares disapprovingly at me, but gives in... stepping aside as if gesturing me to enter his house. It's blacks on blondes inside, and I get lost... and a little bored. I've been here already. I want to start up a conversation, but it always turns into a pointless argument. So I leave... but I always come back.

Friday, April 27, 2007

Finally a weekend

I heard about a place that opened up in Florida (I think), called Naked Lunch. And it's a place for exactly that - a naked lunch. You go in, get naked, and have lunch. The maitre'd is naked. The waitstaff is naked. Everyone is naked except for the chef. The law says he has to wear clothes.

Now, I love this idea, because I love naked people. If you're naked, I'll love you (if you're female, that is). But really, I love that idea. I love the freedom of being nude, I love looking at naked peoplewomen. I think it might suck, though, if I went in to have a burger, and the only other people there was Grandma's Bridge Club from the local nursing home... except the nurses would have to be naked, so that might be good. Unless they were guy nurses.

In my heart, I wish we could all just be naked and have free love and sex all the time and there'd be no jealousy and no disease and no body hangups...... ah, my Utopia. Hanging up your sexual hangups can be very liberating. You should try it.

So, if you're female, hang up your clothes and send me a naked picture of yourself*. You'd be suprised how it would make you feel. In fact, I think this would be a fun experiment - no matter who you are, send me a naked picture of yourself! This isn't for me to use as a self-gratification prop (my wife does fine in that department). I'll post later how many people participated**, but your identities will remain anonymous.

So here I am, at the end of another work week. Building stuff no one will appreciate. If I didn't get paid so blowjobs damn much, I'd go find somewhere else to work. If I didn't need the money, I'd find another career. One that involves the beach, body oil, and lots of skin. And no laborious activity on my part.

So I'm going home, to the wife, to the kids, to the house and the dog. Tonight is help the wife get ready for her work this weekend. Tomorrow is house chores, then get together with friends for games.Am I that boring? I don't think so. I seem to be busy ALL THE TIME.

I am life's butter churn. So nobody has sent me big dicks any pictures. Can't say I'm suprised at that - for one, I have no idea how many people read this. At least 4... possibly 6 or 8. I'd guess most are female... since most of my links are girl's blogs. Still.... I would have thought that at least one person would be brave enough. Adulthood definately isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'm not just figuring this out, either. I'll be 35 next month.

The word for the month is still "Bliss". Doesn't that sum up what we all ultimately want? And we know that bliss in this existance is transitory at best. So, what do you think happens when we die?