The magical time of the month has arrived, so, no sex for the MDs for the next few days. BUMMER!
As I get older, my introspective moments become more numerous, and, quite frankly, more disturbing. I spend way too much fucking time playing Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda on the drive to and from work or when I’m falling asleep. Fucking brain!
I’m hoping it gets warmer soon. I miss the wonderful cleavage on display at work.
I realize now that I’ve been full on fucked in head for most of my life. Part of that wonderful introspective crap I was talking about.
Despite all the sex TW and I have, I’m a very pitiful, sexually frustrated, little man. Yes, I said, PITIFUL.
As I age, I’m realizing that my life will never be fulfilled. I will die a failure on so many levels it’s not even funny.
Boy, the spam here on the blog has really ratcheted up lately. I wonder what the fuck is going on?
The more I drive in rush hour traffic, the more I want to kill people.
The more I work with consulting firms, the more I want to kill people.
The more I think about former friends, the more I want to kill people.
Being off Facebook has been fun. Although I feel the tug to go back, I just remember the people I was “friends” with and realize I’m better off without them.
TT is back from maternity leave. I really want to “milk” her. (see pitiful, sexually frustrated, little man)
I have a habit (no, it doesn’t involve sex) that I have had longer than TW and I have been together. 37 years and still going strong. That would be the habit. TW and I have been dating 34 years this year.
I will love all things pornographic until the day I die.
It’s time to take a long walk on a short pier.