I'm watching my back. So far this has been the weirdest week this year, falling on the less shitty end of the stick, but weird weird weird. Actually was forcefully convinced to leave the apartment and socialise for fear of more weirditude dribbling down my leg. Right into my sock. Now I have soggy weird socks.

Okay. If your a card carrying member of the faithful spank voyueristic society, satan preserve ya, and you already know that I quit Firestorm on Saturday. Fear not fair sifters of my insane verbal money shots, I shall plunk down the full sack of funny on stage once again. The stage will be mine, oh yes, it will.

Desperately wished I had covertly wired the joint for sound after I left and my freshly snipped teammates started discussing my departure. Being able to view your own funeral as it were. Unfortunately, people in the performance world tend to have out of wack emotional coping skills. Hurt feelings abound. Hardly the inception of me bruising egos. Yeah yeah I can often be an insensitive bastard. Rimjob me.

Erik made it difficult to feed him the news like a man. I was all ready with the prison lube, no soap on the rope, shower distribution technique. Swirling his fingers in his hair, coy intonations, "your gonna come back right?". Christ little man, here, take some of my testosterone. I can spare it.

Yet to hear any backlash.

Crashed the gates afterwards at the Blue Room. Flirted with bartender till last call. Rummaged awake a few scant hours later to hobble on in to work Sunday morning. Paid more attention to football and young teens spreading themselves on free porn sites than I did jobby job style activities. Not one, not a solitary single one of the teams I wanted to win on the gridiron did on Sunday. Mayhaps insignifigant in your eyes towards the contribution of the weird dribble aforementioned, but these teams were meant to be victorious, and some pigskin wizard cast a hex upon the world. Mark my words. Then I made it home and settled into my couch till the eagerly awaited Sopranos and other HBO wonderments was broadcast into my orbs.

Monday happened. Monday happened hard.

After work, puffed back the sticky green at a homie's crib till I was a tongue wagging giggly silly person. Crew decided on a repast of sushi at Jeollado's. The excellence of that decision was full of the good. Bombin Japanese fare. By the time we were eating I had already peaked, surely though my palate quivered with pleasure over an eel roll partially due to the fact that I was baked not fried. I origamied a familiar face out of the chopstick wrappers, stuck it in a straw.

I knew that a yummy perky honey was gonna be at the Library. I wanted to test out the theory that her behind the bar flirtations were something more substantial than the run of the mill shit that she doles out on a slammin Friday night. Sure enough, she let me map out her body, constantly draping over me, running her supple tits along the back of my arm, letting me glide my palms around her thighs into her gap. Just short of fingering her on a barstool. She looks like a blonde shiksa Shakira, with a tighter rounder ass and more voluminous tits that seem to have an antigravity field around them. Can't wait to be rubbing the head of my spurting cock over her face.

Also that night a chick from my NYU past was present. Now I had zero clue of who the fuck she was. Even after extended descriptions of classes, film shoots, and mutual schoolmates I can barely place her in that historic spanky realm. She is connected in the commercial agents world. She hooked me up with the legit info to get national commercials and voice over work. Tight. Like for real this could be the break I was genuflecting for. So, of course I went home with her and fucked the shit out of her. I think her line was "Do you want to see my balcony? I live in Red Square".

One point, face all in there, noticed a ray of sun glazing her saliva coated labia. Christ on a cracker what time is it? Thirty minutes till when I was supposed to arrive at the jobby job. Called out sick, head in between a pair of thighs. Made it home somewhere around noon, serious sex aches. She liked to suck cock like the last drop of water resided in it on a moisture free apocalyptic future. Much like Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. Awesome movie. Break a deal face the wheel. Who run Barter Town? Fuck you, it's a rockin movie high in the quotables qoutients. Eat it. Anyway, spanky junior a little tagged. Nice pain.

Now I'm burnt on my couch. Too listless to shower. Mustache filled with reminding aromas of what took place. Kept running my tongue along it. Decided to be hung over all day and night. I go nowhere.

Next day. For fuck's sake. Next day. Wednesday. A habitue of the Lower East Side who used to toil at this slave until he succumbed to one of the many rounds of lay-offs, called me at the jobby. Wants the resume. Seems like a different better job is in the bag as soon as I update my stats. Dope. Dope squared. Ropey dopey smokie tokie. Fuckin triple dip scoop with sprinkles awesome dope. I love when fellow deviants stick up for each other. While this event added to the wierd, it was severely welcomed. Good lookin my black clad East Village freak friend.

Chillin at home. Corinne calls me. Check out some entries in May, like Pining Crap, to get history on this chick. Anyway, she drove me nuts cause I wanted to romance her instead of the general ass slappy, wipe my dick on the curtains and bail type deal. And she was all elusive. Arrrrrrgh. Fuck. But now she wants to hook up. Like I hadn't heard from her in months, and now she finally realised that I'm the shizzy? Whatever, this time the infatuation is gone. I'd still honestly enjoy a relationship with this one, but now I'm bringin the stank. Fuck the romance shit, our thing will be based on animal sex. And oh yeah, I gots serious wood waiting in line to knock her juices out of the park. Grrrrrrrowwwwwl.

Whew.

Really though. On the farilla my ninjas. I'm expecting the Road Runner to beep beep, stick his tongue out, and zip past just as the anvil flattens me. Truly the beginning of my potent season. Bring it on Autumn bitch.