All I ever talk about is…

sex.

Tonight is the release party for Dana DeArmond's Role Modeling, which I'm missing because of the flu of doom. I picked up the flu of doom a couple of days ago, and am mostly over it but still not up to full strength. To console myself, I'm masturbating to her scene in said movie with Johnny Utah. Well, mostly the Dana tries to get Johnny over his nervousness and then bangs Daniel part. In case I haven't mentioned this, Dana and Daniel is a sandwich I want to be a part of.

Which brings me to: My hand touched Roxy Deville's vagina. I'm in the process of making a 'I <3 Roxy' shirt. Seriously. Extra <3 s to Peter Warren for making this a possibility by putting us in the same room together. Dear Manuel: Your giant cock and my ass was kind of a magical experience. Dear Robby: That magical experience should happen more often. One of my ex's old classmates from undergrad in philly just moved out here. His eyes aren't blue or green, but they're still pretty freaking amazing. I really want to bang his brains out, but I'm pretty sure it would be a giant violation of the boy code, and I try to avoid those. Even if I can't act on my rapist urges, I can still go to see techno and house acts with him and think about what a pov angle of his beautiful eyes above my vagina (while his face is buried in it) would look like. And I can still frolic around naked with pbt, who really is the prettiest boy ever. I'm just not made for monogamy. Random: I seem to have kind of developed a thing for Buck Angel. In non-fucking news, there's a BDSM tinged musical adaptation of Oliver Twist playing up the street, 'The Death of Dali' was a pretty sweet short film, and http://killyourfamily.net/ s most recent post has a link to the most amazing animated music video I've seen in quite some time. You get no pictures today, because I look like crap. ~Stoya