Trying to pass the time looking like I'm busy after coming in way late this morning. Wish I could say I was way-laid. My ears are stuffed so my internal alarm didn't go off. I feel like that time in Birmingham, England, the morning after the Carl Craig show when I took 6 hits and crawled into the speaker. There's a constant high pitch ringing in my left ear, like a monitor on the fritz. I'm so clogged up that I had to think about whether the ear was the left or the right--the correct signifier was overcome by what I'm certain is a brown red (or monkey shit orange) wad of illness festering in the inner ear canal like runny egg.

I found a new site to amuse myself with, and boy do I mean amuse. When she talked about the worms fucking I got hot--and to top it off she wondered if she was the only woman who orgasms in her sleep. Shit, baby--I will tonight! I love it when women admit to something sexual in an offhanded way. Like that time in college when a girl I had a crush on admitted that everytime she studied in the library she got so hopped on coffee and anxiety that she had no choice but to jack off in the bathroom. Our library was very Frank Lloyd Wright--I remember putting my hand on the stone wall after she told me and feeling how cold it was. I could have ripped her clothes off right there.

But this one...I got wet right through to my burgundy J.Crew pants. Trousers, as Fitz would call them. Since we're talking about links...

Her name is Rebecca. So Protestant and straight hair and New England; it makes me want to say the Pledge of Allegiance. Almost.

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