*CLICKY CLICKY*
click on trent reznor's Presence for #2 in the series
THEN, CLICK HERE, RIGHT HERE
my right hand is my best friend...
wait, hold on....woah, whoa, relax, breathe in...okay, let's start again, i'm ready
as trent teaches us all, the arm of god will break through from the clouds and push us down, hold us down, keep us down from our own break-throughs. this seems right, but none of this will matter when [INSERT COUNTRY HERE] takes over. we must learn to embrace the hand that cums for us, whether it comes to give us a hand-out, some food, or to stroke us off, a gentlewoman of the night is the correct parlance i believe. it's all good, it's all gravy, it doesn't matter in the end. you're screwed from the start, so why not polish those screws to make them the most pleasurable, head-banging-against-the-headboard screws of your life? shiny things, i turn my head for shiny things. i guess what i'm trying to say is that when i type, i live. when i type, it's proof that i'm still breathing, with the hand of God Himself holding my head down, touching my hair, my awesome, silky smooth, shampooed-and-conditioned hair...what better position to be in all the time than that, huh?
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13 comments:
I'm with you... I write and photograph and create (with my left hand) and therefore I am.
And every now and then a bright, shiny thing - a phoenix chest - will turn my attentions away from the pen... :*
Trent teaches me nothing.
Ha! Love it!
Writing sets you free :)
Love the funky crossword click!
HHNT!!
~Kazi
cheeky: i write with my right hand, and do other things with my left hand, but the point is, i love you
pocket: :( wait, that could actually be a good thing :)
molly: hi there *waves*
kazi: next two weeks, the crossword will get filled in...
I dunno left from right, sometimes.
Two women left me, and, maybe they were right.
I turned off the light with my right hand, and then felt my neck and shoulders...squeezing at some of the neck muscles when...
What's that? Another hand? Reaching along my hip to the front, where an already tight bag craves soft clawing. Gripping the rod...
omigod.
It's....
the left hand.
So foreign at first, almost a different person. And then the right hand, jealous to be attached, somehow, joins in on trying to wrestle away the dick. First one hand, then the other.
Damn! Too much wine!
...and a girl friend that lives near a thousand miles away...
the tension mounts to the edge, which hand? WHICH HAND!?
AAAAaaaaaahhhhhh
(who cares?)
d=^))
I just like looking at your nipple :)
connell: when the Invisible Hand provides a global jerk-off and jilling, it will both soothe (wo)mankind's heart and libido and help the economy
hedone: this is the start of a sexy friendship
I'm with you. Try to enjoy the ride while it lasts... Just... live.
elle: just live > just do it
hey hey, so discriminatory! when you claim your right hand as your best friend, do you mean to say your left bunion isn't? :O
I'm with Hedone!
sophia: i often get bunions when i do it too furiously...wait, what were we talking about again? ;) good to hear from you!
vie: :D
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