i'm guessing this is what it must feel
to be gay, and ****** via the ****...
   was rudely woken up
               at 8.30 in the morning
but this unbearble heat and even
ruder light...
                    went downstairs...
drank a glass of water... and started
binging on essex strawberries,
straight from the fridge...
          because cool strawberries are
the best... the juciest...
                  probably ate around 20
with the juice just exploding in my
mouth, like they might have just as well
been balloons.
          then i lazed in the shade of
the garden...
      sunglasses on, aussie hat to boot...
and then it hit me... ****!
              literally, i have established
this routine when i can take one
jumping out of bed...
             so on to the throne of thrones...
half an hour... nothing... ****!
    the heat, i started blaming it on the heat...
i know when i have a **** lodged
right up there where the moon,
let alone the sun can't shine...
      it's the number of farts...
        i find that farts are the things that
push a **** forward, or let's say out...
so i was like... might as well *******
to classic ****, of still image...
      and, funny enough... just a cleavege
will do...
                  i just get this picture
of naturalists / nudists, and after a while
you go half-way toward the niqab...
             those little accents of flesh being
exposed...
     anyway... the heat... i could have
claimed to be having a shower.
            so i jumped into the shower afterwards...
and then back to more strawberries
and water... and then... ah... the day's
first cigarette... magic.
       then off to the supermarket which
was closing at 4pm for my dose of *** and
coke...
         prior to scribbling some notes
for the lament configuration...
             and then the actual act of writing.
later? making potato salad (mayo,
creme fraiche, mint sauce, radishes,
spring onions, and a deceptive pepper that
like an enlarged pickled green chilli)...
simple cucumbers peeled, bit of garlic
infused olive oil, salt and pepper...
    and then lettuce (ice berg)...
       bit of olive oil... mayo, creme fraiche,
salt, pepper, sugar, and white wine vinegar.
   then eating in the garden with
the bbq roasting in the company of two...
    then washing up...
        and then... taking out the garbage...
god, i have this fetish for recycling...
         in england that's recycled stuff
in orange bags (5 in number),
   and the usual trash in black bags (2 in number)...
but there was this problem...
      i had to seperate some of the trash,
which meant getting *****, slightly,
    keeping in mind: even garbage men are
people, and deserve respect, no ****** could
lift a single bag...
                         the heat! the heat!
perfect opportunity for green-bottom flies
to start swarming... they **** maggots into
little clusters in a blink of the eye... ugh...
         bleach... water... and started cleaning
the dust-bin... ugh... most of the maggot
clusters on the rim... paper-towel, bleach...
and off we go.
              then it was about drinking three
czech beers, writing my father's work
invoice...
              sitting on a windowsill, feeling rather
"groovy", bopping along, head side-to-side,
sitting on a windowsill as in: a
     massaging my **** by sitting on my foot...
and... hey presto!
              a natural laxative took hold...
  straight onto the throne of thrones...
        like a german zeppelin dropping bombs
over london: thoooooooomp! boom! p'ah!
    returning to the windowsill... absolutely nackered...
so this is what climaxing via your ****
feels like?
                    i'm not that much curious
as to reverse this dynamic;
    but i was sitting there, mouth agape,
                         completely monged.