We're so close, aren't we? Just days away from the presents, the family, and oh god the lovely warmth and anxiety our kin can bring. I let it sneak up on Me, act like I'm really not concerned, then Christmas Eve, I'm sentimental and sappy.
And here's a strange trend - I heard recently that winter is death's favorite season. Something along the lines of people being 4 times more likely to die during the holiday season.
Ho fucking Ho, eh?
I considered a long hike today, while listening to a podcast of Marc Maron (comedian, www.wtfpod.com), however it looks like it's barely going to bust 40 degrees F, and you know what? It's fucking Christmas. Exercise is overrated.
Today's unusual fetish call came from a young man who craved feminization. But wait, there's more. He wants to be a bald woman. We talked for nearly 30 minutes about shaving his head, using scissors, then his Norelco triple blade, then topping it off with a nice Nair treatment. Perhaps a layer of Coco Butter, before of course drugging him, and letting him wake up tied down, under a pink canopy bed, with double D breast implants.
I'd create images of the breasts, the nipples, his sweet nether regions, but the thing that made this boy moan and whimper the loudest? Shaving off that noggin of his.
Ah, My sweet little freaks, bless you.
