A squid in
the hand! Johnny Impotency here,
belching up a lot of Mexican beer and well tequila as I peck out this latest chapter
of my failed and useless life! my dinner
left me unsatisfied as food always does.
Or does it? the more I learn the less I want to know. But only the food itself. I recently drank a tall glass of tepid tap
water (my favorite). It really hit the
spot. Of course the fans want to know my
reaction to 2 things. the first is my
reaction to the last Superman trailer. I
liked it . it made me happy. I am
looking forward to watching that movie.
or am i?! the more I learn the
less I want to know. The second is of course
that casting announcement that I literally and figuratively slept on, that of
Moore and Domingo. How could I not have
known. And what does those in the inner circle
make of this?! Of course, they are both
too pretty for their real life counterparts.
But then again that could easily be fixed in any number of Hollywood magic
ways. But even if it isn’t who
cares? This is just an interpretation. I’m just excited that the story will be told
and brought to light again . I’m disgusted with myself that I missed the
announcement. We must never be apart. Was recently watching a woman empty the contents
of several jars of peanut butter and jelly and then smush around the contents
with her feet and I nearly fucking lost it.
it was so deliriously wonderful. Then
another video of her doing with a pile of cooked macaroni and cheese. Just drove me fucking wild. Just ruined my inner life. but never forget that I am Johnny
Impotency, Patron Saint of the
Repressed. Later on I might have to walk
around this filthy town, trying to figure out my kinks. Booze is taking hold. Delayed reaction. How strange.
Let’s not bury the lede here.
good intelligence again. A week
of good to great intelligence as the season of freedom ends. Thus commences the summer of living
dangerously. Red heart. Red heart.
Need to rewatch that Italian movie but that summer truly starts. Is there still time? for me it’s always too late. Handshake felt wonderful. YOU CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN!!! THE RULERS OF THE WASTELAND!!! I can’t get anything done. Just want to smell her ass. My degenerative ways. No, The Symbol of Purity has me but I am too
dirty and awful to meet her gaze. Every moment
needs to be recorded. No, they’re already all fading. Because I’m so deeply flawed. They’ll all be lost. Evil. All
that worry evaporated in an instant. Chinchilla. Can’t get anything done . happy to see
him. Anywhere you want. Sat at the usual table with the godawful
uncomfortable seats. Explained the
differences. Then with a band
accompaniment explained the lack of necessity to make it to the dawn. So willing to share. So lovely.
Need to avoid the gaze. So wonderful. Just kept paying for additional sin. At one point seemed the sin would be at an
end. Time to call it a day and all
that. but when questioned, paused, impossible
to resist, couldn’t speak, and then the smile and raised brow was just too
goddamn much, would have exploded right then and there if I wasn’t your old pal
Johnny Impotency. So instead the
synapses instead the greasy inner corridors of my mind starting shooting off
everywhere. Oh, to just be trapped in
that moment forever with the loveliest smile and the arched brow. And the giggle somewhere. All too much.
All too glorious. More options
laid out. All sounded so honeyed. Of course, I went for the cheapest. I’m a dirt cheap kind of guy. A real skinflint. Real tight with a dollar. Can’t entirely say that given the hundreds I’ve
gone through already in honor of The Symbol of Purity. Collar up.
Ink. Couple different meanings of
course. Bare witness. And then it was all done and more information
gleaned, more crucial intelligence. Every
other one. YOU CLIMB THE
MOUNTAIN!!! FACE TO FACE!!! How perfect, to stumble upon that phrase
right now. masquerade. Visionary alliance. I wouldn’t know what to do in that
moment. I’m desperate. I’m awful.
Awful. Times given, all so fast,
clocking the trajectory of the mountain.
Lovely to hear. Understanding more
and more. Parting is such sweet
sorrow. How many hours (or days?!) until
I may be alive again. Beautiful. Just gotta get through this phase. The way out is through! The killer is me! and the derriere. So wonderful.
So hypnotic. Just want to be
shrunken down to grasshopper size and crushed beneath her beauty. Then plopped in her mouth like a treat,
crushed between her teeth, scraped off the roof of her mouth with her tongue as
though I were peanut butter. No, he just
wants a hug. With a hug he would melt
and die, the sweetest death, want to come quick then die (tell the truth). How he would love to hear her say his name
again. To make her laugh again. Already jealous when others have that privilege. Oh yeah he has it deep. He’s so wrong, so degenerate. Filthy awful thing. He would kiss and worship her feet. Yellow.
Don’t forget the yellow. The same
term again, the same term. What does it
all mean in the grander scheme of things?!
dear. Like honey. It’s a good thing a big full time distraction
is right around the corner. That will
help balance things out. Or will
it?! the more I learn the less I want to
know. The derriere!!! I can’t get anything done. Maybe soon again. Maybe less than twenty four hours. Maybe forty eight. But soon.
oh, the joys of waiting and anticipation. Oh the sweet suffering. Need to read something by Clive Barker soon
. oh The Symbol of Purity, you are
everything in this moment. You have consumed
me. He’s falling into a spiral, in back
of the spiral is a massive image of her face, smile, brow, lovely.
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