MediaWest part 1

I'm back. I'm back. And I'm awake now.

Ann, you ask me, How was your vacation? And I say, it was swell. Apart from the flying, which is like riding a StarTran bus only much, much higher and with smaller seats. 5:30 a.m. takeoff. I leave you to imagine the sheer horror contained in those three words. Or two words. I'm not sure how you count 'em.

Tragically, stuffed Kero-Chan's voicebox ("LET'S CAPTURE SOME CARDS!!!") was accidentally ripped from his torso over Missouri. St. Louis airport is still as skanky as I remember, only now with a franchise Cheers bar for that extra touch. Detroit Metro is still there. Found Susan in spite of the fact that we'd neglected to set a meeting place.

Bus to car rental place, as ever. Nice Hyundai Sonata. We were momentarily buffaloed because it was equipped with a CD player rather than a cassette deck, and neither of us had any discs, until - "Wait! I made two CDs for you!" and Susan produced two discs from whatever music service it is that she subscribes to. One was They Might Be Giants, the other an anthology of TV themes by punk bands. It contained a track by The Pink Lincolns, the gleefully homicidal tones of which pretty much set the tone for the weekend:

So no one told you life was gonna be this way
Your life’s a joke and you’re all fucked up anyway
Seems like you’re always stuck in someone’s rear
And you haven’t had a bath in days, a week, a month, or a year
But –
I’ll be there – FUCK YOU!
I’ll be there – FUCK YOU!
I’ll be there – FUCK YOU!
‘Cause you beat up on me too…

Susan lost the most meds/least sleep contest, and drove us to Lansing, as I attempted to pogo within the comfines of my safety harness.

NEXT: Mrs Hudson has been knocked up.

MediaWest, Part deux

We get to the hotel with minimal trauma. Park by back exit, unload crap, move car to lot, and I leave Zuza to guard the crap (hey, it’s GOOD crap! It needs guarding!) while I go in search of a Cart Guy.

Same Holiday Inn, same carpet with little penis medallion design, that weird homey feel. Turn right, down the hall by the restaurant, and there’s Jennie. Hi Jennie! Jennie gets me in one of her patented headlocks, which is cool ‘cause Jennie could easily have been manufactured by Ty. This means that Amy is also somewhere – Jennie has sent her to get a Cart Guy.

This is a good plan, because Amy is pregnant. Really pregnant. Really, really pregnant. Cart Guys flock to her. I find her, in the lobby with her anointed Cart Guy, and OH MY GOD SHE IS SO PREGNANT! Hi Ann! Hi Amy! You’re really pregnant! I am - give it a feel! Oh, that’s oka--I SAID GIVE IT A FEEL, DAMN YOU!!! She grabs my hand and is shoving it into her pod hatchery area with alarming firmness. There’s her head, there’s her feet, there’s her little butt… I struggle to be free, but Amy signs for a living and has hands like steel, and if little Thelma Louise is born with dents, dammit, it will not be my fault. I may have made up the Damn you part. And the Thelma Louise part. But there's a Louise in there somewhere. I'm pretty sure.

Arrange for Cart Guy of my own, see Bonita coming in on the way back to Susan. Greet-n-hug. Nita is not pregnant, and does not insist that I fondle any of her bits. I like that in a person.

Next: Susan, drug use of.

another stupid web toy

We interrupt the thrilling account of my vacation in order to introduce you to the joys of: http://www.pornolize.com/

I put in last week's "Read to Me" entry. Actually I put in the two vacation entries first, but the other folks mentioned there would hunt me down and do something terrible to me with a garden hose if I reposted it here. In any case, now, for your edification...

10:00 pm read to me
Much wad pulling. Sucked "Muffdiver" Harry Potter 1 (Deep throating 2) and Intron "Dildo" Depot. Sucking a titty fucking thing on manga and cuntlicks, which so far is mainly about raids. Gotta love academia. Book on Takarazuka theater came in the spanking mail. PeckedBridget "Plugin" Assfucks' Diary,and while I live in hope of change, so far Bridget the raunching smacked turn-of-the-century zeitgeist heroine is a fucking huge sucking idiot, and I would like to beat her to death with a cuntlicking rake.

Current "Give it to me" Mood: cuntlapped