morning rain, fleshlight

Last night I got a good and responsible kinda drunk with Bob and Lynda, three beers at Redbar and then a neat glass of Jameson at their apartment, and then I walked home at a reasonable hour and prepared some ramen, some black beans, and while eating my simple concoction over some educational programming on YouTube I thought, “I’m really hungry. I think I’d like another serving.” But then I thought, “Another serving would be gluttonous.”

            Reader, I abstained.

            I drank a modest amount of alcohol, ate a modest amount of food, went to bed at a reasonable hour and then, miraculously, woke up this morning at 6:30—an early start! Means I’m gonna get lotsa shit done!

It was raining when I woke up, but the rain seldom falls for more than a few minutes at a time. Not likely it’ll still be falling once it’s time to walk to Pasion.

I snatched a shower, got dressed, read some news and spent some time just staring out the window and reflecting on what Lynda said last night, on Redbar’s patio, about how she used my Adam & Eve coupon code to surprise Bob with a Fleshlight and that, prior to his using it, she’d had a chance to stick her fingers in it and now she’s completely enamored, thinks it’s a miraculous invention. She believes in the Fleshlight. Which of course then got Bob talking in rapture about it and telling me, “You need to get a Fleshlight. It’s incredible. I’ve actually had to put limits on how often I use it because I’d honestly be fine to lay there all day just fucking fucking it in the laziest way.”

            And all this time, it’s still raining.

            It’s 8:30 and the rain is still falling. I haven’t been able to walk to the café. What I thought was gonna be an early start is now a late start. Because I don’t like writing in bed, or on my couch, or at my desk—so I put it off and put it off, telling myself the rain would eventually relent, but it hasn’t, and now here I am, a schmuck, off to a late start and now the day feels totally disrupted, fucked, and I’m moody and making involuntarily curt remarks to the dog.

            A Fleshlight would probably take the edge off.