Wednesday, February 01, 2006

Falling Apart at the Seams, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt...

I woke up this morning with rather a start, following a dream in which Robert De Nero was my infirm relation, and was insisting on sleeping in my bed with me. Just as I would have been in real life, my dream self was more than a little horrified at this prospect. Sometimes, I just don’t understand where my subconscious comes up with this ridiculousness. I’m thinking that I need to work on lucid dreaming, this way when a bloated De Nero appears in my dream-world, I will have the ability to quickly turn him into someone that I would enjoy having in my bed.

Mind you, I have to admit that given the state of affairs in this house for the past several years I can’t be assured that I would have any idea what to do with a man in my bed. Likely, it would go something like this:

Enter Man, looking at me lovingly as he strips down to his boxers and crawls into my bed. He takes my head in his hands, and smiles slightly. “Darling” says he, in a sexy voice that makes me want to melt into his chest eternally, “I have waited for this moment for so long. You are the only woman I’ve ever felt this way about. I simply can’t wait to make you mine.”

Me: “You’ve just set the woman’s movement back at least 40 years with that comment. What do you mean make me yours?? How is that going to happen then?”

Man: “You know what I mean, darling. I want us to become one…”

Me: “One what?”

Man: (Laughs seductively) “You know very well what! You’re such a funny girl…”

ME: “No, seriously…one what?”

Man: (Now realizing romantic talk is fruitless, pulls his majestic manhood from his boxers, and looks smolderingly at me.) “How about I show you, baby?”

ME: “You want to show me a baby?? What the fuck kind of a sick pervert are you?”

Man: “Silly girl!” (Another seductive laugh) “I want to show you this…” (Bringing his gorgeous hunk of man flesh into my eyesight, and waggling his eyebrows sexily.)

ME: “Oh! That…I know what that is. I have one of those in my bedside table.” (Boldly grasping his penis by the base, and looking about it interestedly.) “Um…hon?”

Man: “You like that eh?”

Me: “ Well, sure…but uh…how do you make it vibrate?? I can’t seem to find the on switch…it’s usually right here…” (Looking confusedly at the base of his penis) “You just rotate the thingy and voila…” (Trying to twist the base and causing man severe pain.)

Man: “Hey!! What the fuck..?”

Me: “It doesn’t work!! Have you changed the batteries lately?”

Needless to say, at this point my once hot to trot lover is pulling on his slacks and heading for the door in great haste. I, on the other hand, thinking he’s gone to change his batteries, am waiting patiently for many hours until it finally dawns on me that he’s gone. At this point, I feel rejected, and go back to my detachable model…

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