Tuesday, March 02, 2004
4 Months
One of the great things about being a girl is the ease at which you can get your swerve on (as my friend Chris likes to say); as long as you can still breathe without the support of a machine and have at least three teeth, it's really not that hard to get laid when you're a girl. But somehow 4 months have slipped away like banana peels on waxed floors, and here I am landing flat on my ass in a desert about as dry as the cracked skin on an athlete's foot. I'm not sure how it happened - I just wasn't paying attention, and now I'm finding myself suffering from mild dehydration.
My God, the other day I was sitting in my office, staring at the computer screen, forgetting what the Hell I was supposed to be concentrating on, when my vision blurred, and I started to fade into my subconscious. My mind dematerialized and beamed up into the fluffy milky way of daydreams sparkling and revolving around office building land. I wafted into thoughts of past lovers and dreamed of perfect situations that would have best suited our union, thereby blocking the emergence of their imperfections that I found so annoying when we dated in the real world - the real world where logic is played like cards in the hands of amateur poker players. How many times do I have to play poker with these yahoos, until I get one challenging enough to give me a run for my money?
Anyway, let's not shatter the daydream here. Where were we? Oh yes, a land of perfection unruled by the logic of expired philosophers who focused too much on presence and being - a land of perfection where there really isn't any focus, just heavenly flavors of ice cream that actually help you lose weight, the phantasmical feelings you get in your stomach when hopping over hills really fast in your car, and the knowledge that there really is a chocolate factory operated by a man named Willy Wonka. I was drifting in breezes blown by the wind God, watching myself stretched out on a deserted beach, my arms criss-crossed underneath my head - I had a rather robust set of boobies and my rotund ass was two sizes smaller than the one I'm currently sitting on. I floated into my daydream body and opened up my eyes to find Aikido Guy standing over me. In my daydream world, Aikido Guy was willing to give up a couple of days out of the week to be with me and forego his typical three hour evening of karate chopping. In this world, I experienced even better orgasms than the one he gave me on our third date. Oh yeah, and Aikido Guy was blessed with Short Jewish Guy's gargantuan, horse-like, make my eyes pop out, brace yourself cock. While my thoughts were busy patrolling the daydream milky way, my real world body was experiencing a yummy, titilating feeling in the house of worship between my legs. The prickling was causing my church to pulsate, rocking to a rythmic earthquake that was sure to cause liquefaction if I didn't slip back into the reality that resides in my cookie-cutter office building...
Just now, I have demonstrated how important it is for employees to have a healthy sex life - less daydreaming at work.
Attention current boss/supervisor or potential employer: Although, I have referenced daydreaming at work, I must note here that I often use poetic license in my entries - i.e., the daydreaming occurs in places unrelated to work or during my lunch hour. I will also take this moment to remind you of the many times I have stayed late, slaving away on a sewer model comprised of data more tangled than a ball of yarn having had the misfortune of falling into the paws of a very neurotic cat. I'm sure there is no need for this disclaimer, but, just in case, I want to quell any potential reservations of my more than stellar status at your company. Please feel free to comment, if the urge tickles your fancy, wool blend covered ass that I'm forced to kiss and deal with everyday.
My God, the other day I was sitting in my office, staring at the computer screen, forgetting what the Hell I was supposed to be concentrating on, when my vision blurred, and I started to fade into my subconscious. My mind dematerialized and beamed up into the fluffy milky way of daydreams sparkling and revolving around office building land. I wafted into thoughts of past lovers and dreamed of perfect situations that would have best suited our union, thereby blocking the emergence of their imperfections that I found so annoying when we dated in the real world - the real world where logic is played like cards in the hands of amateur poker players. How many times do I have to play poker with these yahoos, until I get one challenging enough to give me a run for my money?
Anyway, let's not shatter the daydream here. Where were we? Oh yes, a land of perfection unruled by the logic of expired philosophers who focused too much on presence and being - a land of perfection where there really isn't any focus, just heavenly flavors of ice cream that actually help you lose weight, the phantasmical feelings you get in your stomach when hopping over hills really fast in your car, and the knowledge that there really is a chocolate factory operated by a man named Willy Wonka. I was drifting in breezes blown by the wind God, watching myself stretched out on a deserted beach, my arms criss-crossed underneath my head - I had a rather robust set of boobies and my rotund ass was two sizes smaller than the one I'm currently sitting on. I floated into my daydream body and opened up my eyes to find Aikido Guy standing over me. In my daydream world, Aikido Guy was willing to give up a couple of days out of the week to be with me and forego his typical three hour evening of karate chopping. In this world, I experienced even better orgasms than the one he gave me on our third date. Oh yeah, and Aikido Guy was blessed with Short Jewish Guy's gargantuan, horse-like, make my eyes pop out, brace yourself cock. While my thoughts were busy patrolling the daydream milky way, my real world body was experiencing a yummy, titilating feeling in the house of worship between my legs. The prickling was causing my church to pulsate, rocking to a rythmic earthquake that was sure to cause liquefaction if I didn't slip back into the reality that resides in my cookie-cutter office building...
Just now, I have demonstrated how important it is for employees to have a healthy sex life - less daydreaming at work.
Attention current boss/supervisor or potential employer: Although, I have referenced daydreaming at work, I must note here that I often use poetic license in my entries - i.e., the daydreaming occurs in places unrelated to work or during my lunch hour. I will also take this moment to remind you of the many times I have stayed late, slaving away on a sewer model comprised of data more tangled than a ball of yarn having had the misfortune of falling into the paws of a very neurotic cat. I'm sure there is no need for this disclaimer, but, just in case, I want to quell any potential reservations of my more than stellar status at your company. Please feel free to comment, if the urge tickles your fancy, wool blend covered ass that I'm forced to kiss and deal with everyday.
