Sunday smiles after a number of slammed, over the top days in Dallas. Listening to the Catalyst podcast, an emergent church site, that has strains of tantalizingly real faith flowing through me as I wrestle with my bdsm, freakazoid obsessions.
Where to begin? First off, the Celtics and Mavericks game kicked major steroid-injected ass. KG is the hardest working man in hoops. I have to agree with dickhead Mike Lupica who observed you don’t appreciate Garnett until you see him in person. He works every single possession, at both ends of the court.
Great wine shop, Crush. Up on Knox, methinks. Sharp wine-wisdom dude and a Pinot, “Four Graces”, that proves Oregon puts out something other than rain-soaked, spineless liberals.
Hotel ZaZa, trendily shallow on a scale that appeals to one of my ADD-addled consumeristic, what’s currently hot persuasion. I personally think shallow is an art form and ZaZa delivers. It inspired my little Chi O Norwegian angel to strip down to her Chico’s purple long coat and pointy heals and get obscenely freaky. She’d had enough wine that she unpuckered as I gleefully wiggled my tongue up her ass. She showed me a little urethra love with a Q-tip (that’s unsafe kiddies.. don’t do it..unless you’re wine-buzzed and don’t give a shit) and brought her slender finger into my man-cave which led me to a Jesus shout out, re-access my Navy master’s degree in profanity, body spasming orgasm that absolutely transported me to that little meadow of wonder that makes sex so eye-poppingly cool.
Fast break finish (In honor of my Celtics)-Charmingly coquettish comment from Jennifer LeMonde which left me with the same gee-whiz arched eyebrows that I had as I watched Jason Kidd dish on the fast break. She sooo frightens me….in a drool of anticipation way…And CoCo (Nite Flirt goddess) spinning a cuckold fantasy that gave me a taste of her in a way I wasn’t expecting. She takes you down a delightfully sluttish, sinful road…I salute her..and sick shit in general. It gives me hope. OK..back to recovery..maybe.
