Death To My Penis! Death, I Say!

Death To My Penis! Death, I Say!

It only ever gets me in trouble. Here's five examples:

1.) Last night, the Terri Hatcher-alike mom of one of my students. She came in wearing shorts. With legs that...oh fuck...please wrap those around my head and let me facially explore your nether regions, you beautiful, goddess-like creature. I somehow keep it together around her most of the time. I think I nearly snapped last night. A quick half-smile as she was turning around to walk out the door told me she noticed. Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

2.) At the dollar store buying energy drinks and canned fish. Didn't see who I wanted to see. But a girl gets behind me in line. Nice fiugre, long dirty-blonde hair. Pouty lips. The sort of eyes you only see on girls who...uh...please tell me you're at least 17. Please. Lie to me if you have to. Tell me you're 17 before SATAN EATS MY BRAIN!!! WAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!! !
Holy fucking shit. Hell - a place where I will someday lay my head and call home.

3.) The call to Amanda last night. If that ain't proof of what happens when your dick makes an unholy alliance with your heart, I don't know what the fuck is. I was going to say something like "the proof is in the pudding", but that...oh, never mind...

4.) I'm the only guy at my end of the department at the new job. Said job actually being quite tolerable, by the way. Certainly a big step up on the last piece of shit job. There's women all around, but only two I care to look at. And, of course, they are both SUPERVISORS.

Goddammit, this always happens to me.

Neither are knockouts, just quite nice. One has striking blonde hair, a somewhat athletic figure. Kinda plain, but not bad at all.

The other is clearly ten years older than me, and I don't mind one bit. Long straight dark brown hair. A lovely smile, which she usually has on, because she's a really friendly and pleasant woman, great sense of humour. I mean, REALLY nice. The fact that she's cute is the icing. Damn nice person to work for and be around. And she seems to like me (I've been there two days and have already showed them I'm more than capable of not only handling the job, but catching other peoples' fuckups before stuff goes out the door) and I'd like to...well, you know the drill by now. Fuck, eat, chew, pussy, poon. i'm getting REALLY predictable.

It's a pick/pack/ship warehouse job, similar to what I did for seven months on the east side of town. Most of my time is spent shoving packing material into boxes and taping shit up. We deal in high-end overpriced kitchen stuff. The kind of things that people with entirely too much money waste it on. Oooh! Look! A pepper mill! Only $37! Fucking christ, for $37 I could buy enough pepper to even last MY metabolism (which is pretty much based around pepper and caffiene these days, I'm turning into Zappa, I think) for years. My favorite was the $300 carving knife. Shit, if I'm gonna spend 300 fucking bucks on a knife, it's because I intend to KILL someone with it.

So, if anyone asks what I do, I'll say "I pack other people's shit. In fuckin' Brownsburg." A statement which lends itself to creative interpretation. Oh, the packing material is called "ranpack", but I thought she said "RAM pack." Yeah, you can pretty much write yer own jokes here, fine readers.

Speaking of rampack, the next door neighbor was watching gay BONDAGE porn tonight. And one of the guys had on a red dress. Which...uh...isn't that the dress Peter Gabriel wore on the cover of Foxtrot? Oh shit. Suddenly Shock The Monkey has implications I never before had any desire to consider.

4.) I took my lunch break today, and drove into fuckin' Brownsburg. When I hit the light, I looked to the right. Ehhh, no. Not Taco Bell. I'm not eating that shi...oh fuck, did you see those CHICKS???

Three knockout young blondes. Shorts. Tanktops. One had tits that I do believe took up THE ENTIRE GODDAMN FUCKING PARKING LOT.

So I had lunch at Taco Bell.

Is this fuckin' Brownsburg's idea of Poon Central? Holy SHIT. The place was CRAWLING with barely legal teens. I guess either school had let out, or there was a Ho Convention in town, and it was starring all these LUSCIOUS YOUNG PIECES OF KILLER ASS. They were EVERYWHERE. If any of them were older than 20, I'll eat my own dick. Seeing as how none of THEM would. Damn it.

5.) I had dinner with my friend D9 tonight. We went to an excellent Mexican place. As we walked in, two unspeakable young babes walked in front of us. D9's response? Two words - "Beaver Crossing."

Goddamn. I wish I had thought of that one.

Got home from dinner and grabbed the guitar. Banged it furiously for half an hour. I had to bang SOMETHING after all this, for fuck's sake.

Not much of a "perfomance" (my hands hurt and my voice was mostly strong but not quite on) but it didn't matter. It felt fuckin' great. I'm craving pussy on a level these days that defies all logic and understanding, but when I can lose myself inside Music, none of that other shit means a goddamn thing. This needs to happen more often. Standing in line at a goddamn Taco Bell in fuckin' Brownsburg, feeling like a very old, very repulsive, highly UNFUCKABLE asshole while surrounded by women who are mostly young enough I could be their fucking DAD? Ehhh, that shit needs to happen a lot LESS. All that does is distract me and take my energy level down. Fuck that.

Well, I WANT to fuck that. That's the fucking PROBLEM.

Women have to feel the same way. Dick is an ANNOYANCE sometimes, isn't it, ladies? Well, OK, not dick. MEN. We're a pain in the ass. Wouldn't your life be better if you didn't have to put up with all the SHIT that goes along with the dick? Now you know how I feel. Well, not about dick. I mean...uh...dammit, there's shitty disco music coming from next door again...GODAMMIT.

Scrubbing my brain with a brillo pad and trying not to think about Peter Gabriel,
Dougie

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