Monday, June 29, 2009
The last few weeks I haven't been excessively horny. Well, I've had my share of fantasies and jerk-off time over one particular long distance lady, but that doesn't count because she is there and I am here. So we can scratch that off because of distance for the moment.
Today, I woke up with HORRIFIC morning wood. I'm not talking about the kind of morning wood that you just poke at until it goes away (one way or another), I'm taking about the kind of boner that you want to parade out in front of the world.
I woke up at 6am, went to make coffee, and couldn't read the coffee maker because Little Fire Hydrant decided to bang into the cabinet in front of me. Yes, folks, my kitchen cabinet got laid. Ouch, by the way.
It banged into the door jam when I turned around coming out of my bedroom. I almost took out my cat who decided to jump up on the couch at 7:30. The shower towel had a happy home to hang on.
W.T.F. I'm not a young guy, aren't these problem supposed to go away? I feel like a 14 year old with the little fucker just popping up and staying there. And it's a bit frustrating because I have (A) no local lovers, (B) no desire to go out on dates to find one and (C) no patience for masturbation lately.
So I let him salute the cabinet, the door, the cat and the bath towel for as long as he would stand at attention, then I just had to take care of business. Half hour down the drain (or in the Kleenex, however you prefer to look at it. Does anyone want to look at it?).
It's Monday. I have one trip to the east coast planned this week, and at month's end I will find myself south of Florida in one of the many gorgeous latino countries for a week. I plan on having a LOT of sex on one of these trips, but I won't mention which one.
Still, summer horniness is something I admire. Air conditioning but still sweating, the dark kiss of the sun on each other's skin, body spooge all over the place, screaming and yelling and moaning in the bedroom after an awesome night out at dinner or a show or whatever. It's something I admire, I appreciate, and god damn it I could use more of that.
But still, I find myself SO FUCKING BORED lately with the ladies. Not all ladies, and I've met a few in recent months who are 100% fuckable and dateable but either are not interested in the Sane or are too fucked up in the heart to make a run for it. It's Chicago, I know it is. My visits to practically every other city in the States and in the world has led me to realize the ocean is much bigger than previous thought, and there are FAR many more fishies in it. But still, I'm Chicago. It's not my name, it is who I am. I love my town, myself, and need to get out more to meet someone worth my time who also wants her mouth on the Sane's suntanned body.
So I urge everyone to beat me with a big stick if they hear that I am staying home. Seriously, there is no reason for me to be reading a book and watching movies on Saturday, just because I've become so misanthropic. It's a curse, because that misanthropy isn't worldwide focused, it's just on Chicago.
Maybe I should start a Chicago 30SB group. At the very least, we can bang, right?