Sunday, October 29, 2006

Shit, baby, you got me mesmerized

Damned if sometimes a thing seems kosher in the middle of the night when you wake up with your pajama bottoms stuck to your belly, and then in the cold light of day you think a little more discretion may have been called for. The charming email that follows? Yeah, one of those times. I do receive some small measure of comfort knowing that at least I didn't SEND TO ALL. The sole recipient was a certain someone who gets me/practically is me. And now I share it with you, so that seems to blow that whole second guessing myself out the window. Except this isn't about me, it's about you, darling. I'm your cautionary tale, made flesh. Utilize me.

I wouldn't have guessed...........

....that a 41 y.o. man could still have a wet dream. Huh.

My iPod served up this lil' gem (attached below) yesterday morning as I shaved. I needed you to have it. Don't pretend like this beat doesn't own your ass. That's Faith Evans, bitch.

So, that dream.....insane how I keep revisiting this same man from my youth. I'm sure it doesn't help that he and I had a frank discussion last week, after lo these many years, about my sexuality, his, and how it was terribly confusing for me as a young man that I'd assess his situation in the alley behind a bar and then he'd go home and climb on his fiance. It's not so confusing anymore. To me, anyway. Not sure he owns it exactly. Some people never learn. And some people take decades to learn. Not sure which is worse. Lord but he does still hold some power over me, hence the nocturnal emission in middle age.

We were laughing and joking walking home from a bar. As we cut through this little town square he shoved me into the grass. Wrestling turned into that kind of kissing where you're so desperate it's like you're trying to breathe in his soul. There was traffic noise and people on the sidewalk nearby as I flipped him face down, talking all kinda dirty, gasping smack into his ear while I gnawed on his neck, and dry humped his big round ass until I came myself awake.

Does that actually happen?

Mesmerized (Freemasons Remix).mp3
Seriously, would you have guessed you could cum yourself awake? Now I'm a little more concerned about that whole "if you die in your dream, then you really die" thing. Plus, isn't an orgasm sometimes called "the little death"?

And on the topic of words made flesh, if you wanna see what the verb form of bristle looks like, check out Lynn Cheney in her interview with Wolf Blitzer. I never gave sister a thought before, but in those few minutes she shows the face of many of those in her lofty circle. Bush et al are absolutely appalled that the common folk are starting to spit out this shit they've been spoonfed. And what the fuck is she wearing?

ADDED: I pulled this down because, on second read, I found it crude. And I started to worry that waking up spunky might actually be a sign of some disease process. Then I realized half the shit I post is rude, and the other half a manifestation of my disease, so, it's back!


The Other Andrew said...

Dude, this post has it all. God, Lynn Cheney and nocturnal emissions!... : )

Michael Guy said...

This post makes me so hard.

Sorry for the crude comment. BTW: My opening bid for the 'wet dream jim jams' is a crisp U.S. fifty dollar bill.

Bring it, mofos! Going once...going twice?

Jen said...

Heh, I almost emailed you about the disappearing post. I agree with the boys, this crude and bitchy reflective side of you is hot.

Pookie Pie said...

This is just too twisted for color t.v. I *love* it!!!

So glad you put it back up.

Michael said...

Thanks for all the support, kids. I figure my humor is completely juvenile. Heck, my whole sensibility is. So why should it bother/surprise me that my privates are along for the sophomoric ride?