lady_lea's blog

I woke up this morning with a bad hangover and my penis was missing again.
This happens all the time: it's detachable.
This comes in handy a lot of the time:
I can leave it home when I think it's going to get me in trouble, Or I can rent it out when I don't need it.
But now and then I go to a party, get drunk, and the next morning I can't for the life of me remember what I did with it.

First I looked around my apartment and I couldn't find it
So I called up the place where the party was.
They hadn't seen it either.
I asked them to check the medicine cabinet (because for some reason I leave it there sometimes) but not this time.
So I told them if it pops up to let me know.
I called some other people from the party but they were no help either.

I was starting to get desperate.
I really don't like being without my penis for too long.
It makes me feel like less of a man,
And I really hate having to sit down every time I take a leak.

After a few hours of searching the house and calling everyone I could think of, I was starting to get very depressed.
So I went to the Kiev and ate breakfast.

Then as I walked down Second Avenue towards St. Mark's place where all those people sell used books and other junk on the street,
I saw my penis lying on a blanket next to a broken toaster oven.
Some guy was selling it.
He wanted 22 bucks, but I talked him down to 17.
I took it home, washed it off, and put it back on.

I was happy again.
Complete.
People sometimes tell me I should get it permanently attached,
But, I don't know.
Even though it's sometimes a pain in the ass,
I like having a detachable penis.

Aug 13, 2007 5:24:42 AM

The rat from the subway led the way.

I sort of passed out on the bed in the back bedroom last night. I was in some part of REM sleep when I felt hands on me. I then felt thick sticky stuff being smeared on my face and arms. As my face and arms started to burn, I realized I wasn't dreaming and at the same time, the heavy smell of minty freshness hit my senses and the sound of two little girls giggling filled the room. As I was still pretending to sleep so I could safely plot my escape, a clothespin was clipped to a very sensative part of my chest region and my yelp gave away my fake sleep technique and I was immediatly pinned down with not too much hope for immediate escape.

If you must know, the rest of the story involves more clothespins, a toothbrush, lots of toilet paper, water, a harrased kitten named Mason, a pen that thankfully was out of ink and two unusually devious and stronger than expected 7 and 8 year old girls who claim to love me a lot. =\

Aug 13, 2007 5:23:05 AM