I have chocolate on my sleeve.
I've been doing a study, lately. Did you know that people are far less likely to sit next to you on the subway if you appear to be asleep? This is absolutely true. I think it's because they worry your head will nod over onto their shoulder, but I don't have any hard evidence to substantiate that. Yet.
Why does a clean room always feel colder than a messy one? It does.
The vast majority of Americans will never be satisfied with the tightness of their abs. If people with less tight abs hear those people complain about their abs, or see them refuse a second slice of cheesecake, they will think that those people are assholes.
Tongue-kissing is great. I'd like to meet the person that invented tongue-kissing. I would tongue-kiss them.
It's funny how our palates change over the years. The 7-11 Slurpee used to be a much coveted item. The appeal has become lost on me over the years. Unless, maybe, it was 1/3 filled with rum.
What is the reasoning behind making some dildos, say, bright blue or hot orange? Is it to make them seem more fun? Doesn't a device that has rotating beads and is designed to work your clit, vaginal walls, and g-spot all at the same time seem "fun" enough already? Women are needy.
Sometimes there is a great disparity in the way we view each other. Like, if I was walking down the street with a friend and I saw a woman I knew, I might say, "Dude, I know her. She and I have these amazing, earth-shaking conversations. Our desire for each other is palpable. It's as if our lips have complementary polarity. When we look into each other's eyes, I can actually see a future without war or pain. I can envision utopia, and I can see our children living it." But that same woman, walking down the street with her friend, might see me and say, "That guy does my dry-cleaning." You see? Disparity.
I would very much like to see the statistics on the increased percentage of people who talk on the phone while taking a dump since the massive surge in cell phone use during the last decade or so. I'll bet there's a direct correlation.
I still have my teddy-bear from childhood. Super Poochie. (Yes, that's his name, and no, he doesn't have a cape. Eff you.) He's awesome, and I enjoy having him out. I feel like his real place is in my bed, but he's been living on the shelf above my computer, because what if a girl comes over? There is a fine line between "Fuck this momma's-boy!", and "Oooh, I wanna fuck this momma's-boy!", or so I like to imagine.
If they made pens filled with chocolate ink, the teller at the bank would constantly have to say, "You don't want to lick that. Seriously. Everybody licks that," and he would hate his job even more than he already does. And you'd probably get herpes.
To bring it all back around: When a girl doesn't want to tongue-kiss me, sometimes I wonder, "Is it because I am a taupe-colored dildo, rather than a bright blue? Or am I, rather, the Slurpee she's moved beyond?".
Now throw your teddy-bear onto your bed! Take your clothes off and just drop them on the floor (to warm up the place). Now, wrap your arms around your waist and hug your abs. Just hug 'em. They're good enough.
Lots of love,
Brent 4.13.07 12.29am