Sound; I have a 409 commerical jingle stuck in my head... " Nothing can stop her 409, giddyup 409."

Sight; I watched the Richard Pryor Mark Twain award again today, I personally think he's the funniest man that was put on this earth in quite a while. What a tragedy it is that he can't share that with us anymore.

Taste; A way-homestyle Einstein Bros bagel and Caribou Coffee, Sunday morning tradition.

Touch; I woke up halfway underneath Adam, but not facing each other. We were both on our backs and I was under him with his shoulderblade in my face. Odd.

Smell; I can't smell anything, I've caught another fucking cold. Atleast it's not the flu I had in December. It's scaled down enough to just annoying the hell out of me.

January 16, 2000
The Story of S

I'm still feeling trashy and low brow...

Yesterday after I left my father's and finished my errands I went to Borders to find some new reading material.

I wandered through the new fiction releases, perused some html how-to books, and quit denying that I wanted something from the erotica section. When I finally reached the row, the place was packed because of some performance that was going on, there was a group of girls sitting in front of the shelf. I just tried to find whatever it was that I wanted without going too near them, but I finally had to tell them to move. It wasn't a huge deal, it's just that I felt like a perve.

"Excuse me ladies, but you seem to be blocking my porn."

Anyhow...I bought a copy of the newest translation of "The Story of O," having never read it before. I thought that if I was going to be a perve, I'd be a classic one. On the same theme, I picked upa few translated old victorian erotic novels put into a compilation called "More Black Magic."

I've never read anything more funny. Would you like a sample? Here you go;

"'Dearest Florence,' I exclaimed, wiggling my buttocks, for the in-and-out motion of her finger was more than I could bear-'your touchings and titillations are bring on a crisis. Stay the motion of your finger or I shall come-there-there it is! Oh! I die! I die--"

Couldn't you just, err, die?!?

I finished "O" a little after 10 and began the other book shortly before falling asleep on the couch around 2.

There's never much to say about my Sundays. This is the day I shut down my accessibility to the outside world, and concentrate on the real. My life. The people I love. The comfort of my own place. I think that everyone needs time like this, and often. Those that don't do so probably will suffer for it. Introspection happens most often in silence. Know thyself.

I may or may not come back and write more as the day progresses, but I think the height of our afternoon will be picking up our laundry from the fluff n' fold. Film at 11.

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