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"Wow, I really do have the magic touch."
Sep. 2nd, 2003 01:36 pmFirst, a few choice literal words on last night:
OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.
Yes, exactly.
Which one, you say? Mine! He's MINE! *defensive kitten growl*
I saw a beautiful bright light, a haloed figure above me whose simplest touch ignited and elecrified every nerve under my skin, and I ascended to a higher plane where there was only love and wonder. Plus, I spoke in tongues at one point and started praying hysterically and had my breath stolen from my lungs. When it was over I could barely walk, speak, or think, and my skin and eyes glowed as though lit from within.
Take THAT, Bible-thumpers! Who says we heathens can't have a divine religious experience? Psst--it's called sex. You should try it sometime.
Oh, that reminds me. Ever seen those commercials for that CD called "Worship Together"? Features songs by Christian rock artists. Clips showed people in the audience with their arms raised, eyes closed, heads tilted back and sheer bliss on their faces like they were getting head and having the best orgasm of their life. Guess they were really feeling their god touch them.
This must explain why most of them don't like premarital sex. It's not a misprint in the Bible--they just really like getting off with their imaginary father. Oh, that's creepy. I'm sorry I even thought of it.
I also didn't realize it was possible to continue orgasming up to an hour *after* you're done, like while walking to the bathroom and brushing your teeth, then getting touched so lightly and having your pelvic region explode.
Oh, and the rest of the holiday weekend was really good too. We got to the Undeaded house Friday night and went home Monday night. I even got my jungle boots! Danny took me to the army surplus shop on Saturday. The size three boots fit the best, but then we realized that the left one was a misplaced two, and there were no other threes to match the right one. It was okay though, because my left foot is a half size smaller than my right anyway. They let me buy the mismatched pair, so now I'll have sturdy boots that fit reeeally well. And they're the most comfortable things on the planet. Dan and I agreed to come back for all our foot needs. They even have women's fashion boots--as in Harley Davidson fashion. *grin*
OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.
Yes, exactly.
Which one, you say? Mine! He's MINE! *defensive kitten growl*
I saw a beautiful bright light, a haloed figure above me whose simplest touch ignited and elecrified every nerve under my skin, and I ascended to a higher plane where there was only love and wonder. Plus, I spoke in tongues at one point and started praying hysterically and had my breath stolen from my lungs. When it was over I could barely walk, speak, or think, and my skin and eyes glowed as though lit from within.
Take THAT, Bible-thumpers! Who says we heathens can't have a divine religious experience? Psst--it's called sex. You should try it sometime.
Oh, that reminds me. Ever seen those commercials for that CD called "Worship Together"? Features songs by Christian rock artists. Clips showed people in the audience with their arms raised, eyes closed, heads tilted back and sheer bliss on their faces like they were getting head and having the best orgasm of their life. Guess they were really feeling their god touch them.
This must explain why most of them don't like premarital sex. It's not a misprint in the Bible--they just really like getting off with their imaginary father. Oh, that's creepy. I'm sorry I even thought of it.
I also didn't realize it was possible to continue orgasming up to an hour *after* you're done, like while walking to the bathroom and brushing your teeth, then getting touched so lightly and having your pelvic region explode.
Oh, and the rest of the holiday weekend was really good too. We got to the Undeaded house Friday night and went home Monday night. I even got my jungle boots! Danny took me to the army surplus shop on Saturday. The size three boots fit the best, but then we realized that the left one was a misplaced two, and there were no other threes to match the right one. It was okay though, because my left foot is a half size smaller than my right anyway. They let me buy the mismatched pair, so now I'll have sturdy boots that fit reeeally well. And they're the most comfortable things on the planet. Dan and I agreed to come back for all our foot needs. They even have women's fashion boots--as in Harley Davidson fashion. *grin*
