why we all beefing with him? when he beefed with britney, he says he
needed to clear his head and go out with the
boys/girls/booze/whatever. flee the situation like a real man flees a
situation. britney beefed with him because of his husband failings but
why we all beefing with him too? i defend him to the utmost. and
when he smokes in front of his babies, he does his best to keep
the smoke from blowing directly in their faces, so they'll only get
half baby asthma. okay that was sarcastic but i had to work it out of
my system. now i will truly defend him.
he rocked the cornrows 10 times as good as bo derek ever did.
unfortunately 10 x 0 = 0, but don't tell him that. another dig. i
swear i want to defend him.
he sucks a mean dick. his own. well that's just true.
now he's free to fuck over some other x-factor but nothing else starlet. might i suggest dana plato?
leeches help with blood clotting during surgery, should britney ever be in such a need.
now britney can be a lesbian. the girlie kind. lipsuck lesbian
britney dating farrah fawcett. it'd be just what farrah needs to help
her through the colon cancer.
playgirl k-fed countdown begins now. that has to be the only reason britney was with him, right? he's packing, right?
he's takes it up the pooper real good, the only catch being the
girl's celebrity penis strap-on has to be the custom designed keven
best thing i can say in defense of k-fed is that he's dead. to britney at least. soon to the rest of us.
in considering whether or not to go out tonight, which would inevitably mean eventually hitting the seattle eagle, i just did itunes-mancy and got the following eerie three:
no more tears
combine that with it being assless chaps night at the eagle and i don't know what the hell to do. did i mention it was the diana degarmo version of no more tears? that's embarrassing i have that for sure, though she did a stint in hairspray after ai so that makes it better i guess. now if i don't go out but i don't want to stay in, is there a third option? what isn't out or in? sleep i think. last time i was at the eagle someone told me dreams are out of body experiences. well i fought really hard to get into my body so why would i want to ever go out of it i don't know. unless there was a sale somewhere.
two movers delivered my long ago ordered furniture today. 'spensive kind since i can't afford a condo so why the hell not get nice furniture. the key moment was when one brought in an ottoman and took the time to introduce himself and shake my hand while holding the ottoman one handed. he was mike - a shit eating grin seann william scott clone except strong. i like muscled powermen in shorts carrying things and shaking my hand.
the sex moment was when i realized there was some wrapping around the chrome swivel base of one of the chairs i got and they offered to lift the chair while i removed the wrapping. so i was literally on my knees and all i could see was their bodies from the upper thighs down. bulging thighs. tan calves. penis containing homo collages on canvas at their eye level. oh i also noticed the chrome swivel base and removed the wrapping as planned and caught a quick reflection of the same thing i already saw but from a different angle. as i wrote the check i thought i heard the seann clone say condoms but then i realized he was saying concept 2 because i have that rower. he was bragging how he has the best time at the 10,000m distance on the concept 2 at his gym. i said i can manage 2000m, which while true was irrelevant somehow.
i believe the reason some of us are attracted to straight men is not for the fact that they are straight, but for the fact of their confidence, bravado, i rule the world attitude - and general lack of self-hate. it's sexy to not be afraid of life or self. to not be afraid of going out and being. still don't know what i'm going to do tonight.
smooth calves. smooth arms. dark aqua and burnt orange identical abstract blocky tattoos on both triceps. shopping for natural food alone. square slabs of chest muscle hard and angular. shirt loose over stomach. shopping for natural food. not alone. woman in summer dress following him now. she says to him "why are you following me?" which is ironic and flirty. this is the first impossibility. he is involved.
bag of kitty litter. this is the second impossibility. i am allergic.
though he is strong and healthy and smiley and scruffy and active if i were to touch him he would break in seven which means in two times two times two which equals eight and then one part of him would dissolve/crack from my sick touch. this is the third impossibility. my negative thinking regarding romancelovesextogetherness.
i place my minimal groceries on the gray black conveyor belt that does not need to be gray black but should be pink. lucille ball could eat pounds of comedy chocolate. organic chocolate impulse items she would have wretched. she was a horror though i thank her and desi for producing star trek. my groceries sit on the belt as the card of the person in front of me is declined. today all my raw food and packaged food is yellow or red. some days everything is green and orange. mr. impossible is there now. behind me. alone. perfect except for the impossibilities that multiply each other to zero times three. he starts to reach for a light gray plastic piece that separates the batches of groceries. i am closer so i get one first and put it behind my food.
silence stretches out the moment. i say "you can put one too, like if your groceries really hate my groceries" then he says "boundaries are very important" and his girlfriend arrives and offers no secrets as to her ability to hold onto this man. two cans of butter beans. two chicken breasts. two bottles of wine. something olive pimento pickle caper like in a jar. meal for two. one bottle of wine for them. one for the party tomorrow night i imagine. come sunday they will watch the pride parade as they watch fireworks. from their balcony a mile away.
as i sign my credit card slip, he asks the clerk if the conveyor belt can take the weight of the kitty litter. the clerk chides "yes" and "c'mon, you can lift it" because he is bringing up the conveyor belt capacity because he is joking that he doesn't want to lift the bag again. grocery store clerks talk to people in snippets all day long. i do not talk to people all day long. some days i rarely talk to people at all because some people are men and some men are mean. boundaries are very important. especially tearing them down. gently.
graphic artist barbara kruger has a semi-famous black and white and red all over collage that says "men develop elaborate rituals to touch the skin of other men" over a graphic of crashing sportsmen - similar to this image but not as one on one intimate.
her text should now be "men develop transparent rituals to touch the skin of other men" as made clear by the explosion in popularity of straight gay porn stars, all male benefit car wash water fights, and the medical profession.
this picture also makes me think that i need a digital camera - one with a convenient sexbomb jewish nose indentation so i can actually get close enough to the viewfinder and one that i can hold without crushing. perhaps i will take a picture that can be accompanied by the text "men develop elaborate rituals to touch their own skin". i hear this is popular as well.