Come Shovel With Me

"Why can't I get one fuck?
Must be my luck."

-Violent Femmes

I think things can be summed up by some of the worst local newscenter reporting that I saw today. They made a big announcement that our town is tired of the bad weather, rain and snow. Well, duh. Do you really have to do street interviews at the local gas station asking people if they're tired of this weather? I doubt a reporter would find one person willing to say "I love this shit!" Why? While we protect 1st Amendment rights, we also feel the right to nail any stupid bastard willing to say that to the wall.

1 gun. 1 shovel.

For those of you that do not get it, the midwest and northeast have been through some major weather issues. Actually, 'issues' is too light of a word where people sit in their homes seething over the fact that shoveling is to be done first thing in the morning. It's rare for us to see our green grass because it's covered in snow. When there is any sigh of relief, it's predicted that snow will be upon us again. Hence, the do-over factor that has been fucking up our heads.

I've no problem shoveling. What I do or did have a problem with is how much worse being sick is with the weather as it is. My shivering all night from the flu would have been less if things were just 5 or 10 degrees warmer. Rain, when comes during my time of work, makes it harder for me to do so. I'm sluggish when allergies come on strong. It's all a never-ending battle where all of us in this city would like sunshine to warm our little fannies. I miss the feeling of throwing open windows to surround the area with the music of Sheryl Crow or Don Henley. I miss the feeling of getting up out of the bed after fucking Sara without shivering as I walk down the hall to take a long piss. All I see, is gloom and dirty snow.

If this doesn't give you an idea, nothing will. I skipped the gym tonight. Did you get that? I just didn't have the energy from all that's happened since last Thursday. 10 pounds lost. Coughing still. Sleep was needed to catch up on so I took a little nap that would have happened if 5-Pound Phooey would stop passing so much gas in my bed. A little sleep but enough to make me feel far more rejuvenated than a night in the gym. Trust me. I'll be hitting the weights hard tomorrow. Gonna visit Sara this weekend and, with a woman that behaves like that in bed, I'm gonna need some major strength to fuck her just right.

Sometimes, I miss the screams.

You know what feels good? Watching The Patriot. Yeah, it has nutty old Mel Gibson but also Heath Ledger as his son. Good stuff because there are days I wonder if we'll ever have our own revolution from that past 7 years of darkness under Bush. One man, Mel's Ben, used guerilla style tactics to take down the British's Cornwallis. Some people had problems with the violence. Why? These are the same conservatives that are supporting McCain and his love of war.

There's a new porn that's a bit like 300 only it's women. I'm so curious and willing to get my hands on it because the trailer looks excellent. Gorgeous naked women versus a Xerxes look-alike?

So, that's my life til this weekend. I'm really hoping that all this rest where I watched a new Scooby-Doo episode everyday this week will help. I've dire need for a fuck. It's the type where my need to release every drop comes first. The adrenaline that surges through my veins by the time my cock is rushed into her will bring me back from the dead. Mmm. A good grip on the ass while a salivated thumb presses up against the asshole is a lovely bit of poetry in motion, no? Of course, not! It's the waves from the thrust, my friend. Happy twats all around.