Sometimes I remember some of the wild sexual times I had when I had wild sexual times. They play across my mind briefly like snips of porn movies. Unlike porn movies, I feel guilty and not bored as I would these days. Guilty because I feel like I am watching a family member have sex. You know: You open a door and OH SHIT THAT MAN THAT LOOKS LIKE ME IS HAVING SEX!!!!!! Oh and who is he WITH? Aw shit. Forgot her name already. It will come to me… I just hope MY name never comes to her … so long ago it was. 

Then I close the door on those memories but creep away not being guilt ridden but over ridden by my perfectionistic impulses these days. Hey let’s go back and tell that man how to do better…

“Better” THESE days would be… Ok don’t be in such a damned hurry to get her clothes off. NO PAWING, DAMMIT! STOP THE PIG MAN ACT! Hi hey let’s just take it slow and watch a movie for a while or hey let’s NOT do THAT tonight we can wait until we are BOTH in the mood. Drink? Hey I think I’ll take your suggestion and try being sober now…

Yeah THAT would have been better with everyone but… AND hey kid – next time you do THAT for an hour on such rough carpet, have the fore sight to wear some knee pads. Oh and Bring her a pair too. Yeah baby got this stuff for us both. It’s another form of… safe sex.

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