I'm really taken by my new fuck buddy. He's a bear (not self-described, as obviously I'd never fuck anybody who labels themselves in such a way), a copywriter, supremely confident and lovely, doesn't wear deodarant and has a sense of mischief in the sack like myself.

Usually I think it's gross when people read in the bathroom, but since I've had my tongue all over his asshole I'm sort of immune from being disgusted by his can-side reading material.
He had a Spin with Reznor on the cover dated from 1999 in his rack!! Has this fucking magazine really been in his bathroom for a decade?

Anyway, I was enjoying a cold bath the last week and flipping through this thing. It was the Best Albums of 1999 issue. The Fragile was number one. Even back then, I wasn't aware anybody took The Fragile seriously.

All well. Some other cool stuff like Fiona Apple's second album, the only Beck album I like, the only Chemical Brothers album I like. A lot of shit I don't know, and that 69 Love Songs album I've always sort of been interested in checking out, but figured would likely be really boring.
I decided to order the CD and it just arrived today. So far I've only listened to the first disc a few times, and there are three songs I already love (i don't want to get over you, book of love & another one...i like fido, your leash it to long, but that's not the song i'm thinking of).

hopefully i haven't jinxed myself by writing this and the other two cd's are horrible. although i buy so much music i hate, that three really good songs and one pretty good one for 40 bucks doesn't even seem like such a bad deal anymore.

I didn't really like 1999 (granted, 1998 was a tough act to follow) but will likely spend the remainder of this year pretending it's 1999.

I'm thinking of a 20something or maybe 30something Debaser getting his hands on "The Day the World Went Away" single, taking a tray of ice cubes into his bedroom with him, locking the door, playing the CD, inserting the ice cubes up his ass and enjoying the sensation of them slowly melting and dribbling out as he beats off.

One thing I don't miss about 1999 is that dyke O'Donnell quirkily singing Kid Rock abortion "Bawitdaba" on her shitty chat show and all the horrid women in the audience laughing their asses off at her "goofiness".

I sort of prefer her as the bitter, conspiricay theorist with emotional problems she's become. I just wish she'd stop saying that Columbine was the turning point for her. Unless metaphorically speaking of menopause, which is sometimes referred to as the Columbine of the soul.

how did i know this thread was going to involve me and some sort of sex act??

__________________

the day the ice tray went away

hahahahaha!

__________________