So, Orpheus and I had our anniversary on Monday. It was sedate, laid back… It’s the second time in two months we’ve celebrated an anniversary (this time, it’s in commemoration of Feb 2nd, 2007, the date we started dating officially. Last, it was Jan 2nd, 2007, the date we met). As such, it was somewhat practiced, and even shared 1/3 of the food on offer for consumption…
See, I’d meant to do the same red wine/olive oil/shallot marinated sirloin with a rip-off of Bulgaria’s BF’s sexy potatoes (only better), and another rip off of his chorizo-shrimp. Unfortunately, I completely forgot to bring the potatoes home with me from O.’s place (for some unknown reason, I brought them with me to his place on Sunday night… Stupid!)… This left me with a deranged plan for surf-and-turf, with absolutely no vegetable accompaniment. Needless to say, even with the days’ pressures effecting me somewhat negatively in the kitchen, dinner was a dream scribed on the doubtless hardening walls of our arteries with cholesterol (see a picture of my fat-slimed, empty plate below).
For an anniversary, it wasn’t a super-steaming night. We went to bed, and snuggled, and kissed a lot. Even had a bit of a hot mutual masturbation session… But there wasn’t screaming sex or anything. Which is just well and good. I’ve been run down a little lately. It seems that, though I rarely remember dream, I’ve been remembering a LOT of them in the last week. Like, more in six or seven days than I’ve remembered in the last five years contiguously. Due to this weird situation, I can’t even muster the energy for sex, which should come as a surprise if you’ve been reading me for awhile. I’m hoping that tonight will be a night sans-hallucination. Hell, I’m hoping it’ll be the first of many such nights. I need my beauty coma.
Also, I’m feeling the restlessness of true, deep horniness, but no vim to get up to any vinegar about it.
No comments:
Post a Comment