sex *giggle* and tattoos *giggle giggle*

I watched Tuesdays with Morrie again last night, thank you Ophrah. I know I just spelled her name wrong but I can't determine which letter is the oddball. Anyway, the movie, jack lemmon, always touchs me. I read the book and saw the movie. I love to be reminded in any way possible, that I am mortal, that I am going to die, and I need to live in the moment. Morrie talks about having bird on your shoulder which asks you if you are ready to die today. And I thought, if I was going to die today, I would have wanted a tattoo yesterday. It's childish, it's selfish, it's trivial. But I want one. I want to brand myself. I want a symbol of my own mortality. My only problem is I live in the future and I am trying to be responsible. Fudge that.

Talked to Judy about sex today. Nothing changed. I'm still a virgin. I'm still horney. I had a day dream I was fucking the edge of a couch. That is how horny I am. No lie. Thank god for free internet porn and cybersex. (Don't email me you horny fools, I am in counseling.) The last thing I need and the first thing I need is a quick fuck. I need a caring, tender, leave-it-to-beaver type fuck, complete with instructions and supplies. An assembly required type fuck. Something sweet, multi-orgasmic, and quick to get it over with and with someone who won't allow me to ignore them afterwards. In short,

"I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero...he's got to be strong and he's got to be fast and he's got to be larger than life"

Hell, I was never holding out for anything accept a little RESPECT and eternal adoration. I am such a sexual being without being able to express it. I feel about 13 in the romance department. I am only one step beyond passing notes. Damn it, I'm still in the giggle, stand-by-the-wall-and-pine-for-the-cutest-boy-to-ask-you-to-dance stage. And yet I want to fuck the cute art director in the copy room.

Can't get no

no no no

satisfaction.