it’s not arthritius, the doc keeps saying it’s tired hands, but it feels like spiders crawling up my arms.
i dont want to be at work, i dont want to be typing at all today, and i certainly dont want to be flying this helicopter, but chopper one needs to go up and my co-pilot is doing jury duty.
so heres something from the archives of the busblog to tide you over.
please accept my apologies
Friday, January 02, 2004
ive been at home for two and a half straight days now. this is everything that i always thought i wanted.
ive seen a decent film, i got to eat a spicy pork burrito chips salsa and flaming margueritas, im watching the lakers fight it out in seattle as gary payton returns to key arena without shaq who left in the first quarter, ive had sex with a hot chick (not pictured) with a fuckmepleasenow body.
somehow im bored.
would it be tacky to count the number of times i had sex this year?
some would say it would jinx it but as a Christian i wouldnt know about jinxes.
shes a good girl, this ‘un. came over lookin good, was naked quick. doin stuff super quick. no shame. what goods shame?
im eating apple pie right out of the box. ive been eating like a pig lately.
i dont know where she is right now but it woulda been nice to have her around for some of the day at least.
she left as soon as she had to. it was raining. it was nice. it was nice not to have to worry about waking up. neither of us slept all that great. i held her. she said i had a twitchy moment where i musta been nightmaring. i told her i dont dream. she didnt believe me.
i told her i must have been outofbody spacetraveling through time and dimension.
she said, why would you go and do something like that while we’re all warm and toasty on a rainy thursday night when theres no work on friday?
i said, to fight crime.
she said crime in another world?
i said, yes, and in a different dimension.
then we turned on the radio and had some more sex.
they told me when i was a kid that you hafta watch out for chicks who look good at night but look horrible in the morn. however i have the feeling that it is i who looks like a wreck in the am. my fro goes all over the place, blanket ends up in there, my stubble grows in thick, my eyes have bags, and my rum breath cant be nice.
she looked terrific. btw. so good i asked her if she didnt by accident find herself in the wrong hollywood bungalow last night. i said this to her voluptious and bronzend ass which i couldnt keep my hand offa.
she told me that shes gonna have a hard time finding another man who loves her ass as much as i do.
i told her she needs to stop dating those white dudes in the abecrombie commershes.
the english beat came on the radio. she was just finishing up her period. dont you love these details.
she came out of the bathroom and i had already put the condom on. she slipped under the comforter. we got at it. when we eventually changed positions, turned down the smoke machines, and lowered the harness she looked at my thing and screamed.
am i that bloody? she said. and looked at the sheets and then back at me.
startled i looked down and said what? and then, no silly, this is a red condom, which one of the strobe lights illuminated.
whew she said.
and we went back at it.
and lately i havent given a shit about what the neighbors think.
dave reviewed Diary of a Political Tourist and i concur + sk smith + amy