If you had of told me ten years ago that blogging could result in sex, I probably would have said: “Logging?”
“No — blogging.”
“What the fuck is blogging? A drug?”
And then we would have talked about the future history of the internet and such. It would have been quite an interesting conversation. Frankly, I’m sad that we never had it. Yet, as if to prove a point you never even tried to make, I’ve met a girl by doing this.
While I wouldn’t cross the street to spit on most people, she is actually worth the time it takes to fuck her. Sadly, being a fellow whose vigor and dedication is only matched by his fragility, I pulled a muscle. Tonight, I had to work –heroically– with a strained shoulder. It was much worse than anything happening in Burma.
But she’s even worth that. Well, kind of.
I certainly wasn’t thinking how great she is when I was carrying a tray full of sangria and water. I was thinking mainly – ouch, ouch ouch while cursing my remarkable abilities as a lover.
I wish I was as easily sated as other men. I really do.
How easy it must be for them. Stroke-stroke, poke-poke and snore. Sadly, I am a man of tremendous appetites. I always have to overdo everything I’m interested in. And then overdo it again. Then . . . Well, you get the point. It’s a tragic flaw.
For me, at least.
Anyways, if I’m a bit scarce for the next week or so, you know why: I have a woman to destroy.
pic nicked from here
