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Frisky Friday

Did you ever have one of those mornings where, regardless of how perfectly beautiful it was outside, all you wanted to do was stay in bed and make watch porn?

Whack, nap, repeat.

Or would that be ooze, snooze, repeat?

Speaking of ejaculations ... did you read this?

So when the doorman buzzed and said, “furniture delivery*” ... well, my mind raced. Pressed stop on the VCR remote, pulled on a pair of gym shorts (complete with pup tent) and waited.

And there they were, two latin studs, jockstraps peeking out of their low-rise work jeans , shirts slightly less ripped than their shoulders, asking me in broken English "Where can I please to put this big new wooden piece ..."

I wish. They were pleasant enough, and one had nice tattoos, but I guess I'm getting finicky in my old age (older on Monday -- keeps those cards and gifts a comin').

So it was off to the shower and to find some clothes.

Apparently Gypsy didn't want me to wear underwear today,

and Cab was content to keep any more dirty clothes from finding their way to the hamper.

Far be it from me to disturb the cats.

(I'd have said pussies, but that's vulgar and I've already got porn, comin', whack, studs, ejaculations, jockstraps, and tattoos in one post -- Goolgle can only take so much).

And now what ... work?

I suppose. Last day in the office for awhile. San Francisco next week for a conference and then London the week after.

It's a rough life ... light a candle for me me. I'll do best to blow it out. Or something.

:: :: ::

* I'm still not sure why Larry keeps buying new furniture, given the move and all. I understand it's cheaper here, and work will ship it ... but we have no idea where we're going to live and what will "work" in the new space. Oh well, at least we have a smart new coffee table for me to bend someone over rest my martini glass.