Dear diary,
It’s me,
@Revoltingest with another journal entry. Try as I might, I cannot stop feeling a longing, and ache in my loins if you will, assuming my loins are still functional and not too tender, when I think of her. She’s everything to me.
I remember when we were at the boathouse, and I slid my cape from my strong, muscular shoulders. I stood, my thick hair stirring gently in the spring breeze, staring pensively out to sea. She looked up from the book she was reading and said, “Why is that weird looking maintenance guy wearing a towel around his neck? And is that a dead raccoon on his head?” I turned, favoring (note the American spelling so you know it’s really me) her with a sideways glance filled with passion, the way lovers do when they are sharing a secret. My taut, rippling stomach flexed spontaneously, as though it understood our passion and wished to hasten our coupling. “Oh, my,” she gasped, “are you having a seizure? And why do you have a washboard duct taped to your gut?”
Later, I saw her in the garden, cutting roses. No doubt she was going to bring them to her boudoui… boduir…. boodur…. bedroom so the sweet scent could join us during our frantic expressions of passion. Smiling to myself, I decided to arouse her further by walking slowly past, letting my firm, hard posterior lift her to even higher levels of excitement. Slowly strolling by, I heard her gasp lightly behind me, letting me know my plan was working. “Hey,” she said in a low voice, “if I catch you stealing ricotta cheese again, you’re fired. Now go empty out those pillowcases.”
At last, our lust could be contained no longer. Entering her….. bedroom, let’s go with bedroom, I was greeted by the sight of a huge four poster bed, covered with intricately laced blankets and satin sheets, the air redolent of the sweet smell of love. Removing my immaculately tailored clothes, I laid upon the bed, resplendent in my nudity. I could hear the soft noises of her performing her ablutions of love in the next room, preparing herself for the consummation of our love. Suddenly, overcome by lust, she barged into the bedroom, and yelling erotically exclaimed “Is someone cleaning fish in here?”
* Edited to remove vomit stains.
