Fuck
It's Friday afternoon. The kid's taking a nap, so I decide to catch up on a little reading. Inevitably, I fall right the fuck asleep.
No complaints though, because I have what may be one of the best dreams I've ever had. (Quick aside: why are nap dreams always so vivid and awesome?) Here's the way it played out -
I was working late, when I suddenly realized that I left a Netflix in the (fictional) DVD player up on 22. I run up to grab it. The hallways and everything are really dark. When I make it up to the (also fictional) lounge area on 22, there is a cleaning lady there.
Now, when I say cleaning lady, I mean a smoking ass hot, 20-something Mexican chick. We talk for a little while, and it occurs to me that this chick is totally down for getting crushed. Onto the love seat we move, and off my pants go, when I hear someone clear their throat behind me.
Who could it be but the MILF of all MILFs that works on 24. In the dream she was playing the role of some sort of matronly figure. For you see, she was accompanied by around 20 other hot young chicks, and no fewer than 3 sets of twins. She made the comment that no one moves on her girls without her permission.
At this, they all started to dance. Did I mention that these girls were all wearing halter tops and spandex ass shorts? She told me that most of them worked as strippers as well. I replied that I could see that. Several of them made the patented stripper eye contact with me, and proceeded to advance toward me.
It was at this moment in time that I realized that I was in the place I want to be when I die - a room full of women who not only get paid to get naked and rub me down, but to clean up after me as well.
It was also at this moment in time that my cell phone rang. It was my boss, with a question about some questionable volumes on the July reforecast.
Fuck.
Happy World Cupping, and drinking, this weekend.
Labels: hotness, non sequitur, shame and failure, unsheathing the meatsaber
2 Comments:
That gave me a stiffy
You should create a bad ass ending and send that shit to Penthouse. Not only would it make the mag but it would also give me a great excuss to buy a penthouse.
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