12/28/2013

A guy went to a nude beach for the first time in his life, and spent all day there, playing in the sun.

He took a blond bimbo home with him that night, and they had hot monkey sex all over the house. In fact, he wore her out and after she’d fallen asleep, he got up and went to the kitchen, his unit in agony from the sunburn.

He ran some cool water over his dick, but even that little pressure hurt, and in desperation, he flung open the refrigerator door, seeking solace. His eyes fell upon the tub of sour cream and he pulled it out, and sighed in pleasure and relief as he sank his inflamed manhood into the cool cream.

"Huh", the bimbo said from the kitchen door, where she had wandered, "I always wondered how you refilled those things".

***

No blisters, thank all that’s horny, and no great pain today from my burned penis.

(this is an R rated diary, by the way)

It could be worse.

I made the coffee this morning using my old French Press, and even though it leaves coffee grounds in the coffee due to a worn screen, it’s safer than the cone perched on the Corning Ware tea pot.

I dunno if it was just Friday, or that they knew it was my last day, or they were just fucking with me, but the last day’s shift at the DD home was BUSY and any thoughts I had of an early morning drive to Crescent City got shelved. I set my alarm for 11 because I had laundry to do last night, and that’s a three hour block of time that I used to get online and to gather things up to take with me.

This is going to be a gradual move, I think. Not an all at once, never coming back again move. For one thing, I like the drive and for another, my rent in this public housing is low enough to pay for January now. The apartment I’ve lived in for 15 years will stay "mine" for awhile longer, and we ("we". I love that!) can come up here and see The Gorge and be "us" in other places.

And, if things don’t work out , one way or another, I’ll still have my home.

A "just in case" act which I feel is important to make "just in case".

Think of it as the bungee around my ankle as I jump off this bridge.

Besides, even though it is a studio apartment and I don’t have much stuff, it won’t all fit in my Caliber. Maybe I can borrow my friend’s pick up truck; drive down there in my car, back in his truck, with my girlfriend by my side.

"By my side". Not three steps behind me and not herded in front of me, but by my side, a partner as we walk through these lives.

***

That sour cream thing? It does sound good, but I don’t have any and I’ll just suffer (a little bit) bravely.

My nurse says she’ll take care of it tonight.

 

 

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