Sunday, September 14, 2014

a holy hand gesture

it was a sunday afternoon. i was home alone, sat on the dinner table, glasses sliding off my face as i hunched over this laptop. 

i was home alone so i decided to watch ...nope, wrong guess. i was not watching porn. it was not porn, but i suppose some prick could argue otherwise. anyway, so i was here, slightly blushing at the viewing pleasure of such a goddamn sexy scene. it felt silly because i came to realize that i had never watched any sexy scene on any dinner table. dinner tables aren't for watching sexy scenes. family dinner tables are not for watching sexy scenes. but frankly, that fact didn't stop me from continuing to watch these goddamn sexy scenes. i kept looking around just to make sure that no one's home because, my god, dinner tables are not for watching sexy scenes. i had been home alone for a few hours. i had been absolutely home alone, but paranoia strikes anyway when the sudden realization of a boner comes stiffening up at me. (un?)fortunately, my nutty boner limped when i turned to my right and saw the statue of baby jesus giving me a vague half peace sign, half middle finger. i closed all the sexy tabs from the show that i couldn't even the recall the title of. minutes later, my parents walk in from the front door, greeting me. 



word count on the use of the word sexy: seven 

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)