A Random Image

Jett Superior laid this on you on || April 30, 2006 || 2:22 am


when my hair

looks something like

a mad scientist

would sport and

your teeth rest

against my spine

–both humming the

same irreverent and

pitchy scream/song–

dragging meaty, gulping

breaths between them

then I am

so very fulfilled.

::: :: ::: :: ::: :: :::

The chief good of getting roused from the midst of a good slumber to get laid is that, well, YOU GOT LAID. The chief ill of getting roused from the midst of a good slumber to get laid is that you run the risk of being all jumped-up and jivey in the middle of a perfectly good, muggy night. Maxim is back there, beautiful long limbs flopped out akimbo and crossways over the bed, and I’m here a-courting you people.

I would say “NOT FAIR.” but hello? I just had a couple of mighty fine, tendons-screaming-type orgasms and who on earth wants to ruin that business with some bitching and ingratitude? So I believe I’ll tell you a story in attempt to tucker myself out a wee bit. Look, there’s a yawn already!

Earlier tonight, The Dear Spousy Person and I were in the Root Of All Heinousness (I know, I know, I used to tell you people how much I adored that place, but Holy Damn, I’ve since come to myself and repented) picking up a few little things and just making some conversation. Our schedules, presented with many and varied obstacles, never seem to coincide these days and so we carve out alone moments where we can. This means that if heartfelt conversation is to happen, it can and will indeed happen on aisle four next to the dog biscuits and just a stone’s toss from various potting soils and fertilizers.

(lately I’ve been wanting to Europeanise –SEE?– everything, trading the hard and very commital ‘zee’ for a softer and more seductive ‘ess’; however, I will save that for my inevitable expatriation, so that I am a total and complete traitor to the Great Red White and Blue Way Of Tasting, Smelling and Just Overall Being)

So, our retail travels found us in the feminine products area (which, in my opinion, is woefully small considering how heavily such things are advertised here in the U.S.) of the store. We were on a mission to procure some of these, which is no surprise to you if you know anything at all about me. BECAUSE, if you do indeed know anything at all about me, you must surely be aware/know with absolute conviction that I am all about The Smellgoodtm. Those things, those eedle moistened bit of papery cloth –or clothy paper, as it were– smell so fucking delightful that I keep a box in each restyroom of this house as well as a box in my gymbag. When I am out and about and happen to lay eyes on a beefy bohunk of a fellow, I want to dab one of these behind my ears and in the crooks of my knees because they are that damn appealing; I would not even have to holler “HELLOOOOOOOooooo, BOYS!” as is my fetching manner, I would just dab the pulse points and stand upwind of my male victim intended. Go buy your woman a box now. Present it with a note on fine linen paper that says, “I got you these not because I believe you have a case pf the smelly bits, but because the pinnacle of all folks with good taste and knower of fine things, Jett ByGod Superior, said they would make you swoony and delight you beyond the measure of the three bones I spent on them. For RILLS.”

Okay, back to me and my personal, very own beefy bohunky guy: We were in the feminine product section of retail hell, and we fully realized that we were obligated to giggle like twelve-year-olds over the names of various douche-type products. I read them quietly aloud, and Maxim was responsible for the pithy witticisms that we were committed to spitting out.

“Oh gack, I love it: Gennnntllle Whiiiiiisperrr.”

“Yeah,” he said wryly, “It’s going all,” here his voice became an exaggerated stage whisper,”‘Wash your pussy, bitch, it stay-ainks!’

The game had to stop then, because standing in the feminine products aisle barking like a goosed hyena attracts all manner of unwanted attention from those what’s in charge. Don’t you people ever accuse us people of not knowing how to properly embrace life.

Nobody worked it out »

Don´t be shy. Lay it on me.

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