First, a quote:
"Alas, Chelsea seems intent on marketing herself as a sophisticated escort. With her flat affect, lack of culture, and utter refusal to engage, Chelsea couldn't even dazzle the likes of Forrest fucking Gump. And that's just where the problems begin. Just as her perky little tits seemed to literally shrink at my touch, so too did the Connoisseur's cock fail to launch at the clammy touch of her hands and the lukewarm and loose embrace of her mouth. To quote the great sage Jamie Gillis in 'Misty Beethoven', this number is the nadir of passion. A splendid time is absolutely not guaranteed for all."
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The hush of smoke curling off the wick:
snuffing any semblance of animalistic insensitivity,
the truth-bearing flicker eclipsed in black.
"It's been quite some time,"
creaking rust on her lips.
Nicotine cobwebs from between her fingertips
tracing inked branches on a porcelain ribcage.
"I've missed you,"
out of key, the 'twang' of lustful lies
steel strings, twisted up by knaves.
Tension threads in the dark like lashes on a pillowcase
Ambivalence condenses on the window,
tears of a Virgin rolling down the panes.
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blah, blah, blah...I don't even feel like finishing this, now.
I'm weird.
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