You say Stalking, I say Voyeur

I've been feeling like a museum exhibit the past few days. I'm of course referring to the way my blog and me have been used by Watts as an exercise in getting over Michelle and Michelle being.. Michelle. The end result of this little run in is that I've lost a reader(meh) but have also gained quite a few new readers(Ooh!) thanks to the now infamous but unfortunately non sexual threeway between myself, Watts and Michelle. I know this because I've done quite a fair bit of reading myself. In a way I guess we're all just suckers for voyeurism. We just love to watch other people's shit and get off by the fact that the other person doesn't know we're watching them. Look, but don't touch. That's why strip clubs always do well. It's the restraint that turns us on. Boobs are in my face and I think I felt just a bit of crotch on crotch action. But no touchy touchy or the bouncer named Little Mikey's going to leave you with a few less usable fingers. It's some weird reverse psychology that's for sure. Probably Forbidden Fruit syndrome. Of course, we could all just be really curious about how the voyeuree is doing, but I don't think I'm too far off the mark in saying that this curiosity springs from a deep seated emotional response for the said person, I.E. you/I still do feel something for me/you. But to reconnect again would be too remiss on our part , not too mention too painful or too complicated for others, so I guess we're all just going to have to be content to look at each other from across a chasm mute by choice and paralyzed by past actions. Meh... one of the many many many many idiosyncrasies in this so called life. I'm not going to be losing any sleep over it.

And just like that I have nothing else to talk about. So I'm going to let Jim James and My Morning Jacket lead you out




if we could all cum melodically that's how I would cum.