Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Case Closed. Hands Down.

I confessed to J.Lass that I'm more than certain my virginity is still intact even after getting plenty of voluntary (non)vitriolic (non)violative intrusions to my, er, vessel. Vexing, very vexing.

"Remember that day with the getting it on thing? There was a stretch, but no pop and glide. Shouldn't there be a pop, glide or pop and glide? All I felt was a stretch but no smooth sailing."

I motioned her to watch my hands act out a sequence of sexual tableaus.

She looked up from peeling the Saran wrap off her brownie and rolled her eyes skeptically.

"Why don't you go and check?" she suggested, weary of my nonsense. I blushed because those brownies are way too good to have interrupted someone for.

I conducted a thorough investigation today at headquarters. To my dismay, my findings came up empty (or full, if you prefer).

The facility had indeed been ransacked and the door, blown open. This discovery undoubtedly leant little credence to my previously held assumption (to the chagrin of an obviously imagined bellicose right). Then I got all hungry and philosophical and hooked my computer to my TV so I could listen to the Kings of Convenience in stereophonic glory.

Fannnn-tastic.

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