I decided to list the ways I wanna go out in my head to detour the thought and logic patterns of drudgery sex that were plotting their courses in my imagination. Its enough to make a brother say goddamn when he's jerkin off.

Topping the death wish category is obviously the sexual blowout. In my late fifties or early sixties furious humping away doggie style on one of the five penthouse hookers I procured for the evening ( this mortality fantasy also includes me being disgustingly wealthy ). In the middle of a six hour trippy boner thanks to the modern marvels of medicine and relaxed narcotic laws that allowed psychotropics and erection pharmecueticals to intertwine. Pulling out and begin the semen sprinkler on her fine sweaty ass. Go into an ejaculation overload, pleasure too much for me to take, my balls seize up, which cracks my heart, and my brain fades out with a cascading curtain of yummy colors.

On the banks of a Midwest river in the middle of the woods, during a calm and clement green foilaged day. Mocking birds, cicadae, and mire toads all talking to me. The hyptonizing movement of the water and its rushing music. Wild grasses and flowers transmit their pheromonic aromas into the perfectly tempered breeze. Roll up my sleeve and give myself a hotshot of the finest southeast asian heroin that money can buy. Sink into the moist earth till where I begin and the muddy bank ends is no different. My substance feeds itself into the river towards a southern delta.

Somehow a convention of the guiltiest of humanity gathers in one arena. Some "How We Can Fuck the World More" convention. Intolerable cops, shifty politicians, slave traders, religious organizers, natural resource squanderers, rapists, molestors, and anyone who values monetary wealth over the benefit of mankind and its evolution to a higher place. As they raise their Cristal in praise of themselves, the doors explode and the windows splinter. Me and my commandos wet the crowd. Cappin them in the face when possible. With their blood draping me, and all their breaths done, I go out to face their hired goons. Behind their flashing lights and plexiglass shields they tell me to drop my weapons. I theatrically cock another round into it's chamber, and they finish me in a hail of ammo.

On my way back from a whirlwind tour overseas. Stomach filled with tapas, french wine, german beer, homemade procuitto, and Netherland pastries. My skin conditioned with the body fluids of dozens of multinational pussy. Thoughts and ideas free falling through a blanket of the kindest herbal smoke. The jet rips open over the Atlantic, thousands of feet in the atmosphere. I'm vacuumed out, and sent plummeting to my watery grave. I close my eyes, crack a grin, and enjoy the ride till my senses black out.