Motto: I don't care if Trump is through,
Clinton's dumb, Obama too.
Statists, I dun care 'bout you.
It's Monday, I'm alive...
Pai nu ?
So I woke up this morning needing to pee. A little part of me that's reasonable proposed we take a trip to the bathroom, but then of course a much larger part of me that's actually sensible took over and we went instead to the little girl's room (she's really not that little, especially around the chest) where we stood above the girl's bed, penis towering impressivelyi over her lithe figureii. Then I curled her tiny earsiii and she slowly, visiblyiv woke up over the space of ten seconds or so. Then she opened her eyes, and the object of her affections to date and ministrations to come focused into meaningful view. She curled a sly little smilev and kitty-lickedvi my ballsack. And then she blew me offvii. And then I went and peed.
Except I still didn't go pee in the toilet, like normal human beings.viii I went and peed in the bushes. Because I fucking can. Guess who absolutely loves my piss (besides, of course, the naked whores captive in my otherworldly lures, who gargle that shit like it was ambrosia, which I suppose for them it exactly is) ? Or should I perhaps say "guess what", would that help resolve any ambiguities ?
No, it wasn't a bitch. No, I get it, it's a pun built out of ambiguity and sexuate innuendo. Nevertheless. Care to guess again ?
Fine, be that way then. Here you go :
I hope you do admire my very steady hand.
But you can only take a piss for so long, so eventually I checked on Trilema and found out I've discovered a way to burn a few extra Terabytes overnight. Apparently the world very much wishes to be shown what happens when poo-bear comes out of coloring book for mongoloid kids and attempts to do her hurr-durr of a walk straight into a fist. That gif is so worth it...
Anyway, whatever, that concludes the story of a very early Monday morning. Perhaps there's more to come. Geddit ? Come ? It's another pun built out of ambiguity and sexuate innuendo!
Would you live naked in a house of mirrors perched way up on a hill somewhere in the unchartable wilds ?———
- I expect you expect morning automatically means morning wood. I suppose in some contexts this is true, but I will tell you that in this particular context 'tis not, I can't recall waking up with a hard-on in the past decade.
The phenomenon may be an indicator of how many fucks you got left in your useful life. It may also be an indicator of how few fuckholes you got orbiting all around you. The happenstance that young men wake up with clubs in between their legs pretty much every morning is certainly not dispositive in this dilemma, and not really all that indicative either. [↩]
- This magical enchanted place of the candles is ensorcelled with strong magicks that require any and all females be naked inside at all times. This includes sleeping, cooking, cleaning the floors, anything. It also includes visitors, all of them. Quite the magical shack I tell you. [↩]
- Curling is when you trace the outline all lightly. [↩]
- She's great to wake up because she physically appears to be swimming up towards the light from the depths of a dark pool. Coincidentally I don't think she gets nearly enough sleep these days. [↩]
- You never know with her. Yesterday she woke in a terror because she had dreamt I had ordered her to... you'd better be seated for this... document all the water. And she got really despondent as she realised there's really a lot of water on Earth what the fuck. [↩]
- It's a small stolen lick, what can I tell you. Get some kittens. [↩]
- No, not like they blow you off. Like they blow me off. [↩]
- Do you ever consider the matter of optionality and other such lofty items of political science and existential philosophy in the narrow confines of this simple act ? It's not quite such a tiny thing, or to quote a certain pope-to-be, "Come e bello pisciare. Si fosse ricco piscerei sempre." [↩]