I made this on: 2001-09-27 - 1:05 a.m.
I feel like demonstrating literary freedom today.
I woke up this morning with a huge, painful hard-on. Gee golly, what's the deal with these morning erections anyway? You know what? I'm gonna find out right now...
Ahha! According to TeenHealthFX.com:
Some males wake up with an erection and some don't. Either way, both are completely normal. Studies have shown that men have several erections and arousal periods while in the dreaming phase of sleep called Rapid Eye Movement (REM).So what was I dreaming about last night? I wish I could remember, but I bet it has something to do with seeing Josie in that Sisley ad campaign I saw last night. Yyyesss. All nekkid and sexy and lesbiany. Yum. So yeah, that was probably it.
Okay, back to this morning... I was prodded with the task of inventing reverse Viagra, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get it down. I tried thinking of Janet Reno and Louie Anderson engaging in S&M, but amazingly, that failed.
I tried talking to it: "Down boy, I'll buy you some delicious glazed doughnut holes if you go night-night," (I was sleepy) and of course that didn't work. In the midst of my frustration, I resorted to physical means.
I took about 20 minutes to meditate, increasing my chi level to the Dancing Lily state. Then after 10 minutes of Kata, I hollered a loud "BONZAI!!!" and took my penis by surprise with a Serious Ninja Shadow Chop of Death. And as you might have guessed, that just made it worse and I nearly broke my hand in the process. I would have kicked my dingy (which would have been very easy for me to do *ahem*), but I just had a manicure.
Haha! That was funny... kind of. Ok so the last 3 paragraphs I made up. I actually went back to sleep for 10 minutes and GarganChuan was resting again.
*Ahem* Anyway, back to Josie. She's gonna star in this flick called The Mallory Effect. Aren't you just wiggling with immense giddiness? I haven't the faintest of what it's about or when it's coming out, but I bet it has nothing to do with cloning.
The other night (a few months ago, when I actually had time to watch TV), I saw this 60 Minutes thing on human cloning. Some fubared shit, aint it? What's the point, right?
Not surprisingly, the pro-cloning scientist featured on the show was Italian. I've done some experimentation also, and after months of meticulous researching and unbiased reasoning, I have concluded that the whole point of cloning is to clone as many Asian women as possible with bionic vaginas that are equipped with Asian male killing spermicide. Yes. It's true. Damn them bastardinis.
On the other hand, I do believe that something grand, that something extremely important and revolutionary (heck, it might even save the world from entropy) can come out from cloning and genetic engineering--making me a super-babe. I assume though, that such a proposal would create a black hole of some sorts in my pocket.
But when I get the money, I'll clone Josie Maran's body and put Albert Einstein's cerebellum in her head.
When I get the money, my super babe will have a blend of Amel Larrieux's, and Lea Salonga's voices.
When I get the money, she will have Saul Williams' talent and John Coltrane's musicianship, a new mother's affection, Mother Theresa's kindness, Olivia Lufkin's girlliness, my grandmother's heart, Beau Sia's sense of humor, Ninoy Aquino's heroics, and lots of charisma even if I don't get the money.
And when I get the money, I'd make her armpits taste like vanilla so I can have a snack while we have sex, in case I get hungry. And I'd give her a peanut butter recess pieces flavored ass, because that's how asses should taste (not that I've tasted any). And her lips will taste like tropical flavored Starburst chews.
When I get the money, my super babe's hair will glow in the dark, so that if we ever get lost in a cave, with no food, no light, and a map showing the way out, I'd at least no where she is so we can have sex 87 last times before we die in the cave.
When I get the money, my super babe will have a pencil sharpener in her belly button, so I can sharpen my pencils in her bell-
No, nevermind.
When I get the money, her fart will smell like dew drenched gardinias on a cold morning, and I'd make her fart a lot cuz I like that smell.
When I get the money, I will have realized that money can't buy you love, but love can't buy you shit.
So now you know... I love poetry and music a lot.