bichoose (bichoose) wrote,

Sunday 17th September 2006.

The weekend almost over,a simple flip of the coin will mean tremors wrapped in a horse blanket and that means the work slave will once more rule the mind,no doubt a sweaty sock full of demons will invade the space i climb into when i pull on my trousers.My tiny red van will run riot over hill and dale butterflies will rest on the last of the summer flowers;i saw a peacock butterfly in all its glory this past week, i stopped watched moved closer and could smell the death of summer under the fragile wing beat.And if i whispered,i am sure forty-two double DD's would softly fold around the fog in my mind.

Thursday brought on the double fog,the strange fog from where it came i ofton wonder never the less it hardly ever thins or drifts to climates new,i have even thought to my self bring it on more intense until the mind does a star trek warp factor and vanishes,until the next time the desire to find my fat dragon a bull to service her,to fill her up until the orgasm tides over her in waves the crashing foam tumbling tossing the sins of the world in a wash, of why not,and why should any one else be bothered if i so desire a bulls testicles to dangle from the fat dragons hungry flower.

  • Thursday 12th May 2022.

    I think i need to poke my head out of the front door smell the coffee, hold my hand out to feel as if it is raining them pull on my busted stockings…

  • Monday 9th May 2022.

    Today i have started my second week without a reminder to pull on my blue uniform...i do not miss it..or am i lying to myself, perhaps... i do not…

  • Tuesday 3rd May 2022.

    I no longer drive one of these.... My blue uniform is now gathered up, old bits, new bits, consisting of shirts, high viz vests, which i always…

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