Goddamn, my hips are sore; I haven’t fucked in the morning in a damn long time. Maybe that’s a good thing. I mean, since I didn’t get off, my pupils are dilated and my skin is tight from all the hormones. These Things Happen. And this is no way to function in the morning and try to be productive.
Sure, I’ve rubbed one out in the early morning light before like any other red blooded male, but having sex in the morning is uncommon these days. Sex as a general concern is of unicorn stature. Is it real? Probably not? Can anyone point me in the direction of some? Ummm…look north? I’ll take that as a no.
She just left a little bit ago. And I will be off to work soon. I guess there isn’t much to this morning besides I am relatively proud of myself for getting out and in there. That being said, I need to be careful; I once heard that pride cometh before the fall. How far can I fall, I wonder? I am a few months out from a break up that stung, I am low on cash flow due to my negligence juxtaposed with my preparation for the future, and summer is upon me with a swift vengeance of gin and unknown regrets. I don’t think the bottom is too far down, but I can still see the goddamn ceiling, that’s for sure. I am going to call this place the white man’s limbo.
The seemingly permanent feeling of mild satisfaction coupled with stark overtones of a ridiculously easy life lingers all around me. Maybe I should just be happy with the fact that I had sex in the morning, but I think it is part of the self-imposed-limbo-experience to have the ever-present feeling of “eh” followed by a shrug. I should sink into this state of being, no?
No, your right, I should fight it. When a group of people (white people) have had it so good for so long, the morning orgasms that used to hold a special place on the internal trophy wall, don’t seem all that cool. But they are. It is a wonderful thing. We should all have less work in the morning and more sex. Or at least I should. That’s right; I should have both of these things.
This could just be another sunrise, and hormones are raging through my body, and confusing the real issues left after the dinosaurs go extinct. That could be why I am in search of leftover cocaine this morning. I believe that the only work one should do in the morning should involve sex. Whether that is actual sex work (get that money!), a good ol’ hump with the significant other, or like in my case, a pleasant surprise with a girl from Tinder that stayed overnight. There shouldn’t be any inklings of doom on days like this. I won’t let my pride take me down this morning. Nope. Not today. Today I know I am happy and I don’t care if I float out here in limbo, if only for today.
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And this is how I chose to tell you that I am starting up a new blog with a friend where we are going to review bars and breweries, and really, whatever alcohol involved adventures around Denver. I think it will be a damn good and creative endeavor. I will still write on here. I was going to post twice a week on here, but that probably won’t happen now. It will be a startup venture and I will need people to roll with me to bars and breweries and give recommendations. Most of the people that read this are my friends, so, I will need you to not get old on me. I will let you know the details later. Cheers!