Ouch! That's My - Oh Yeah, I Asked You To Do That Didn't I?

So, lying on a bench the other day, wearing a paper g-string (think small, linen, waist high Japanese cock pouch - VERY wrong) with my knees pulled up to my chest and a stranger attentively pouring hot, hard wax and prodding me around the labia majora, perinneum and such regions (that we don't usually love to mention when they're our own, especially in such a distastefully clinical and non sexual way), my glory spread to the heavens, feeling about as fucking exposed, vulnerable and ridiculous as one could POSSIBLY EVER FEEL, I decided, between gasps, 'what better way to distract said stranger from my anguish/hole(s) than to introduce the topic of film criticisms?'

And thus I launched into my take on Brokeback Mountain: "yeah, nah, yeah, good...? Yeah it was good. Didn't really blow me away though."

Fuck, conversation over. Thoughts of two hotties getting it on in the mountains surely can't distract her for that long. In fact she might get carried away and start crying over my giney or get aroused... Ummmmmmm... Shit!

So I quickly jumped in with "And I plan on seeing Walk the Line tonight."* That'll get her, I thought. Yup.

Oh jeeze. I ran out of things to say so just tried to control my breathing and not to cry with humiliation.

* I did in fact see it and it was AWESOME!!!!!!! Fucking brilliant. One Joaquin is worth ten Jake and Heaths. Both he and Reese Witherspoon are brilliant and the movie is amazing in every way.

This blog successfully includes the longest sentence I ever did write (yeah whatever Steve Martin), the most embarrassing truth about my self yet exposed and the weirdest format for film review ever. Go darce!

Favourite thing today: just to turn another corner (hell why not)... Switch Board for one of the hottest coffee experiences in town.