My pants are falling! My pants are falling!

My pants are falling! My pants are falling!

08.10.05 (5:28 pm)   [edit]
Chicken Little, meet Cock Little.

Apparantly my current diet (consisting mostly of beans, various soups, assorted things that grow in the ground, and grapefruit juice) is doing its work. OF course, I eat like this because I can't AFFORD to eat anything else. But that's good, I suppose. My pants are falling off. The last three pairs I wore require belts now. This makes me happy.

I'm still getting the shits every week or so, but at least there's been little or no blood in in for a while now...


Speaking of pants falling off, you've GOT to see the chick I work for. Well, I don't have pictures. She's the on-site rep for my temp agency at my new job (which I've been at for five days, a new record for this company)and I want to WEAR HER ON MY HEAD LIKE A FEED BAG. Holy fucking shit. Amazing blonde, very curvy, light tan, unfuckbelievable smile. Killer eyes. She has a small scar on her right cheek, which hurts nothing. I have no idea why it's there, not going to ask. The only question I really feel like asking when I see her is "PLEASE OH PLEASE OH PLEASE OH FUCKING PLEASE WILL YOU HAVE SEX WITH ME YOU UTTER FUCKING GODDESS???????"

Which I doubt would work.

Last week I followed her upstairs to get my new badge. I watched her hair 10% of the time - she walks with this great confidence, and her ponytail bounces around in a very cute, somehow assertive (if hair can be assertive) way). The other 90% of the time I watched her ass. Christ, and I thought I couldn't keep my eyes off her rack when she was facing me. This is the kind of ass that TALKS to you as it so perfectly moves. "Hi! I'm the ass on this hot babe! See me? You wanna FUCK me, don't you? I'm her ASS!!!"


I see beautiful women often. I don't see many who make me want to follow them around like a puppy begging for scraps. (In fact, the last one worked for the same temp agency back at the Cincy office when I was there.) Since this isn't an option, I go to Plan B, which is "Make Everything You Say To Her As Funny As You Possibly Can."

Strangely enough, this one actually thinks I AM funny.

Unfortunately, I don't see her more than five minutes a day. No minutes yesterday. Damn. Her effect on my psychology is remarkable. I can't stop thinking abut how much I want to fill her pussy with taco meat (properly cooled down first, of course) and DINE AT THE BUFFET.

"So Doug, looks like you've got a few hours of overtime this week."

"I want to eat your pussy."

""Checks will be her Friday."

"I want to eat your pussy."

"I spoke to Brad at the office and he's making sure you get paid on time this week."

"I want to eat your pussy."

Me single-minded? I need this luscious creature in my life. I NEVER think about the same thing for more than 14 seconds. She is the cure for my ADD. I want to eat her...oh, you get the idea.

And she's incredibly nice, great energy, always smiling. She comes off like the girl who grew up both making all the boys want her, and beating up all the boys. Just for fun. I think she's fully aware that she's the most amazing little vixen within a 20-mile radius, but she's more amused by it than anything. God, I'd love to TALK to her for an hour. I'd just sit there and...well...drool.

This is a woman I work for. Goddammit. Oh well, back to waxing the dolphin...

ASS!
Dougie