So hammered, well nailed

Actual picture of me, some friends, some foes, in a pastlife

I am a powerful dark sailor, who has sailed many a gibawa wave. .. .
I read this from a book of poetry in my dream.  I had the sense then that it was quite famous and I was considering updating my Facebook status with it to see how many of my friends would recognize it.
I am at once annoyed and amused that Facebook status found its way into my dreams. For my part, and more creatively, I  started writing a poem for it this morning. I was, however, quickly out of my depth, and it will take a long time before I deign it worthy for your ingestion.
Eat something else why don't you. How bout the rich?
Funemployment is loosing its luster. I keep trying to schedule sessions as an English teacher but it takes so much bloody effort to read in French and then respond in French. It's like they don't even want to work on their English. *wink*
A lot of dudes are writing me to have sex with me, too.  Asking me if I "teach other courses" or explaining they want a companion, male or female, and in my age range....why so picky, bro? Someone even put their prices in their email, 200 euros an hour. I mean, thanks or whatever, that's certainly more than I could make teaching you English. But, think of all the front end investment in yoga and hot wax that would mean.
I do have some great fuck-me-boots but those get put to fine use as is. Everything is pretty super around our apartment. I feel really lucky to be friendly with the folks who share my space. It's just that well...I really miss having loud sex. I miss it so much. I miss it as though it were a 4 packs of oreas and I am a kid still away at fat camp and I want it more then I ever wanted a piece of the Agrocrag. (Check out our 20sb discussion on the matter)
Truth be told, I bet my flatmates probably already think I have loud sex. But honestly, I am totally keeping it down for them. Ok, there was Friday night when one of the guys was being generous with his whiskey, and Sebastien and I ended up at the bar afterwards...
It's funny going to bars.
There I am, finally practicing my French, flirting haphazardly with the bartender, being silly with some English guy named Peter all the while slurping down a 6 euro whiskey and coca when a handsome shape catches my eye, turning around, my body abruptly warms, I notice the man I absolutely must have my legs wrapped around in the next five minutes or else. Oh yes, the internet, I am just like you. I go to the bars to find someone to practice my mantra with. Thankfully, the male I selected was likewise inclined, and thankfully he also had the key to my apartment, because I had left my copy up in our room.  He smiled back at me as I slinked toward him meaningfully, all while thinking, but my face surely not saying, why are we spending money here? We could be upstairs messing up our sheets...
So yeah, we had loud sex on Friday night. Although, I think the second time was much quieter.
On a somewhat unrelated note, as most of my blogger friends already know, Sebastien and I are in an open relationship and we've selectively been telling our housemates  now so that they stop introducing us as the "American couple." A couple of Americans is just fine. You are what you eat, after all. Damn, I must be rich. Rich in spirit at the very least, for I am a powerful dark sailor and I have sailed many a gibawa wave.

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