January 12, 2006

As you wish Regan, as you wish …

I drank a bottle of wine and spent six hours naked in front of my bathroom mirror armed with a camera, clothespins and my vast collection of snap-on bracelets. The feeling of household objects and relics of past decades slapping and clinging to my skin was orgasmic.

I fell face-first on the bathmat and writhed in ecstasy. I clung to the toilet and kissed it tenderly. The cold porcelain on my lips was heartbreaking. It felt like suckling at the breast of a giant frozen woman.

After all the joy and pain, I visited Regan’s blog. Blogs are marvellous things; you bare your mind and your soul and your skin to the world and anyone who finds it can give immediate feedback.

Feedback like “Stop baring your skin!” and “Discover/invent and USE a synonym for ‘orgasm’” and “your a gay fag lol.”

I wanted to see if Regan had posted any more advice on surviving in the wilderness or photographs of his ass. The world needs to know about bears and asses.

Click. “Bookstore Shenanigans.”

FUCK! Another boring paragraph where he laments that no one as smart as he is ever comes into his “VeryLargeBookstore.”

I’m getting sick of this shit, Regan. Find something new to post on these hallowed webs. No one cares how great you think you are. You’re turning the world against you and ruining lives.

So fuck you, Regan, because you ruined my evening of drunken cumstained bathroom vanity with your asshole story about people wearing NASCAR hats who think the Da Vinci Code is real. NOBODY CARES!