Damp.

I am trying to work out what it is exactly that constitutes a wet dream and if that is what befell me during the best sleep that I think that I have had since the motherfucking womb.

I even remember thinking as I slumbered ” This rules!”

OK, back to the dream…I didn’t cum.I am hazarding a guess that it puts me out of the running in the wet dreams regatta but nevermind. Christ,I haven’t blown a load in what? Nineteen months?! I think my snatch has grown over but I can’t say that I really care enough to go messing around down there to find out for sure.

So,I’m running this amazing bar that just happened to be in the library of my old grade school and there was a dude there.Lanky,no tattoos and kind.Don’t know how I could tell that he was kind but I could and it was nice to be in the same space.He made all the people he was talking to stand up straighter and work harder at their end of the conversation.I was thinking that I liked not being the tallest  person in the room for a change and not being the center of attention.

He dug me.Didn’t say or do anything overt to indicate the like-age but it was there.He didn’t fuck me over the file cards or anything ,it wasn’t one of those “Dear Penthouse forum,I never believed the letters that I read on your page until one day…” type situations  but he was around and he liked me. He was secure in digging me and let me know so without laying a finger on me and man,can I just tell you,I was shining like someone had spent a lifetime polishing my ass and waiting on the genie.Seriously blinding.I mean,he wasn’t doting or anything but I was all lit up and down with some one digging on me.

Amazing.

Can I just take a minute out of the no doubt gripping fable that I am laying down to illustrate how completely sad  not to mention pathetic  it is that the closest thing to feeling anything at all for over a year is not even real, let alone some utter Caligula of a fuck-fest,it’s a dream of someone being kind to me.Barf. My therapist is gonna just love this clanger….

Onwards…..

Then the frog who was taking the bookings at the front desk smiled at me as I watched this dude at the bar wrapping the room around his finger and said “Such a nice boy” he simpered “and such a historically correct  mohawk for a 19 year old.”

And I woke up.

(19???!!#$!?)

Refreshed and somewhat confused.What is up with the Mrs Robinson angle? Well.considering nothing went down I guess there isn’t one.Thank Elvis for that ! What in the hell would one do with a 19 year old? Colouring in? Are they even toilet trained? I can feel a migraine fingering my cortex  just thinking about it. That is why I chose to think of it as a “moist” dream rather than a wet one.And not “moist” in the rubber bits either.Moist in the arid plains of my tumbleweed choked self esteem.

Doesn’t the word “Moist” make you think of one of The Three Stooges saying the word “Most” ?  Just me then? Moving right along…

Come to think of it,I hate the word “Moist”.And the word “Gusset.” while I am on the subject. I am changing my mind as it is a women’s prerogative to do.It was a “Damp” dream.

Ner.

I have felt like a million in prizes all day.A total sad case but hey,I will take my kicks where I can get em’ at this point.

Weird.

Back to what kids its self as my “real life”…..

Mixed messages abound as always.I am a mellow mama who accepts pretty much everything,that’s not to say that I  have to like it but I am cool.I don’t know why people think that they have gotta lie to me.It ain’t like anything is gonna shock me at this stage of the broke down game is it now?

My friend Zack is back from the other side and wielding the tattoo machine like the Elvis given genius that he is.I have not had any work from him since he gave me my most loved Ramones tattoo’s and I am thinking that that has got to be pretty damn close to a year ago.I caught up with him and his brilliant papa tonight which is always a joy and was lucky enough to grab some ink from Zack.

We are both Apocalypse now obsessives.I mean line for line? We are the business.I had been desiring a permanent scar pertaining to Francis Ford’s magnum opus for fuckin’ eons and now I have. Zack grinned when I gave him the lowdown on what he was gonna carve into my dermis and what it meant and voila! I am one happy camper.

Now that he is back in the mix I can finally start chipping away at my back piece which is great.

A nice solid work out at the gym.Running again.The weather is shit-house.Rain every second day.This is not the summer that I signed up for.Pah.Still being rather lackluster when it comes to entering into personal correspondence because people ask “What’s new?” and I ain’t got nothing.

Just ghosting and training my way through the next two months as I have to be war ready to shoot with Miss Ash come the end of January.She won’t take no from me any longer so best I get right.

Got the new Rolling Stone so I am going to attempt to read myself under and see where it leads me today.

I can hear  the world waking up.Lilli coughing up what sounds like a wet hammer.

Time for me to check out.