dream girl in green shirt/boy shoot white stuff
New Year's Eve Trish & I spent a lazy day together. She had the day off; slept in until 9:00. I got up around 5:30 or before, in spite of the 3 temazepam I took the night before. Screw it. I've decided to just take 2, unless I have a couple of real bad nights.
For breakfast I had a bowl of corn flakes, topped with sugar substitute & cinnamon, a natural means of lowering blood sugar. Since Trish didn't wake up until 9:00, I snacked on a (pop's wicked) onion bagel, something stale from the soup kitchen, so I nuked it.
When Trish finally abandoned sleep for the world of the living -- or at least the awake -- we spent a lot of time drinking 1/2-caf, followed by 3/4 1/2-caf, 1/4 decaf. (Doc Larocque wants her to cut back on the caffeine, 'cause of her anxiety.) She stayed in her sweats most of the day.
We had TV dinners for lunch. I forget what Trish had. I had pepperoni pizza, corn, & fudge-ems. This is not a culinary experience I wish to repeat in the near future.
After lunch, Trish once again entered a near-manic housecleaning frenzy. When she finally finished we took our 3:00 meds, then walked over to Albertson's to pick up some orange juice; taco cheese, so Trish could make quesadillas; diet cherry Max (the only real alternative to Mr. Fruity); 2 bottles of Albertson's light pancake syrup (we can't afford the name brand stuff); & a gossip magazine in the checkout line, 'cause Trish had to check out Britney Spears' rack. The gay apparel of X-mas lingers with Britney, or you could really see she had no bra. Fast & bulbous.
Joe was in the line in front of us; he asked about Santa. I mentioned the Viagra. Last night I had my 2nd experience with the drug. I took it once we finished supper -- I reheated the tater tot casserole in vegetable oil; added some Zap-it! -- & watched the original Battlestar Galactica, followed by a porno-vid.
This time, it wasn't nearly as intense. The porno this time featured a "plot", a lot of dancers in thongs, & occassional soft-core sex, with only 1-2 lesbian scenes. I didn't find it nearly as arousing as The Erotic Ghost, the one we'd watched the night before, but Trish was getting sick of that one, anyway.
We finally moved it into the bedroom. I kept being distracted with fantasies. I shouldn't have to rely on K. Fantasy to make my Philip K. Fantasy shoot white stuff; that was my whole reason for checking out Viagra. Unlike the previous night, it didn't last 2 hours; also, unlike the previous night, I actually shot white stuff, the first time I've had a satisfying ejaculation in ages.
As we snuggled afterwards, I confessed to being Kimothy Leery. Trish understood: I'd told Kimothy bi-bi love, it hurt her, I had no choice -- & I wanted Trish to know I'd deliberately rejected the deaf, dumb & blonde girl for my beautiful Bumble Bee Girl.
Although I told Trish I'd like to check out Viagra again tonite, she asked me to wait until Wednesday. Thursday is her day off, so if I have a 2-hour erection again she can sleep in.
The only thing that remains for Trish's work week is Andy Morlock, a real atomic cult item that I intend to finally complete, now that I've found an old stash of Timothy Leary's envelopes: Nicotine Tim used to send me letters in envelopes that were actually entire sheets of hi-power blotter acid. Since I wrote the original on nutmeg, I want closure of Wendy's unresolved lesbian issues to cum from something psychedelic.
Once that's done, I intend to finish TC/MR for Analog, then return to work on Noc-Lar. I want to finally finish, submit, & have professionally published something before the night closes in: Jerry's just had more eye surgery, but didn't tell me; I found out from John that he'd sent a one-sentence email.
Starting tomorrow, I have to get my blood pressure checked every day. I had to stop Cardura for the aphrodisiac. may need something to take its place. I may return to Iron Claw House on a temporary basis, though I can do without Cheri. No one there shares my interests or intellect. Cheri just ridicules my wrighting (with both hemispheres) the way she & Noncorean gloated over Trish's traffic accident. I hope they find someone new soon.
So that's all there is today: Morlock. An Andy tweak of the faithful.
--Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
--Take 2 Abilify & call me in the mourning.
--& fuck Scientology.
--Yes, fuck Scientology.
For breakfast I had a bowl of corn flakes, topped with sugar substitute & cinnamon, a natural means of lowering blood sugar. Since Trish didn't wake up until 9:00, I snacked on a (pop's wicked) onion bagel, something stale from the soup kitchen, so I nuked it.
When Trish finally abandoned sleep for the world of the living -- or at least the awake -- we spent a lot of time drinking 1/2-caf, followed by 3/4 1/2-caf, 1/4 decaf. (Doc Larocque wants her to cut back on the caffeine, 'cause of her anxiety.) She stayed in her sweats most of the day.
We had TV dinners for lunch. I forget what Trish had. I had pepperoni pizza, corn, & fudge-ems. This is not a culinary experience I wish to repeat in the near future.
After lunch, Trish once again entered a near-manic housecleaning frenzy. When she finally finished we took our 3:00 meds, then walked over to Albertson's to pick up some orange juice; taco cheese, so Trish could make quesadillas; diet cherry Max (the only real alternative to Mr. Fruity); 2 bottles of Albertson's light pancake syrup (we can't afford the name brand stuff); & a gossip magazine in the checkout line, 'cause Trish had to check out Britney Spears' rack. The gay apparel of X-mas lingers with Britney, or you could really see she had no bra. Fast & bulbous.
Joe was in the line in front of us; he asked about Santa. I mentioned the Viagra. Last night I had my 2nd experience with the drug. I took it once we finished supper -- I reheated the tater tot casserole in vegetable oil; added some Zap-it! -- & watched the original Battlestar Galactica, followed by a porno-vid.
This time, it wasn't nearly as intense. The porno this time featured a "plot", a lot of dancers in thongs, & occassional soft-core sex, with only 1-2 lesbian scenes. I didn't find it nearly as arousing as The Erotic Ghost, the one we'd watched the night before, but Trish was getting sick of that one, anyway.
We finally moved it into the bedroom. I kept being distracted with fantasies. I shouldn't have to rely on K. Fantasy to make my Philip K. Fantasy shoot white stuff; that was my whole reason for checking out Viagra. Unlike the previous night, it didn't last 2 hours; also, unlike the previous night, I actually shot white stuff, the first time I've had a satisfying ejaculation in ages.
As we snuggled afterwards, I confessed to being Kimothy Leery. Trish understood: I'd told Kimothy bi-bi love, it hurt her, I had no choice -- & I wanted Trish to know I'd deliberately rejected the deaf, dumb & blonde girl for my beautiful Bumble Bee Girl.
Although I told Trish I'd like to check out Viagra again tonite, she asked me to wait until Wednesday. Thursday is her day off, so if I have a 2-hour erection again she can sleep in.
The only thing that remains for Trish's work week is Andy Morlock, a real atomic cult item that I intend to finally complete, now that I've found an old stash of Timothy Leary's envelopes: Nicotine Tim used to send me letters in envelopes that were actually entire sheets of hi-power blotter acid. Since I wrote the original on nutmeg, I want closure of Wendy's unresolved lesbian issues to cum from something psychedelic.
Once that's done, I intend to finish TC/MR for Analog, then return to work on Noc-Lar. I want to finally finish, submit, & have professionally published something before the night closes in: Jerry's just had more eye surgery, but didn't tell me; I found out from John that he'd sent a one-sentence email.
Starting tomorrow, I have to get my blood pressure checked every day. I had to stop Cardura for the aphrodisiac. may need something to take its place. I may return to Iron Claw House on a temporary basis, though I can do without Cheri. No one there shares my interests or intellect. Cheri just ridicules my wrighting (with both hemispheres) the way she & Noncorean gloated over Trish's traffic accident. I hope they find someone new soon.
So that's all there is today: Morlock. An Andy tweak of the faithful.
--Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
--Take 2 Abilify & call me in the mourning.
--& fuck Scientology.
--Yes, fuck Scientology.
1 Comments:
Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather
Whiplash girldchild, in the dark.
Strike dear mistress and cure his heart.
By Nico and the Velvets; ask Lou. I could sleep a thousand years.
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