Screw 40 days and nights...I'll be lucky not to explode before Monday...
Well, It's officially day four of my self-gratification boycott. Let's just say I'm ready to pounce on a certain someone given the right circumstances >-) Only problem is, I'm so hypersensitive to even the slightest touch, (and by now, even the right thoughts have an effective, er, effect) I won't be a contender for anything even resembling endurance for the first one but the others will be harder to extract. I dunno if my goal is a week or just to try not to give in to my many 'urges', but my neglect to the issue at hand (no pun) is obviously affecting my ability to concentrate, on anything. My only analogy can be quoted off There's Something About Mary when Ben Stiller's friend Woogie tells Ben that going on a date with that sexual pent up energy is like having a loaded gun during conversation...basically it's armed for any action that may occur and not much else filters through to you in the conversation. So basically, for the last three days my mind has wandered from retrograde memory, to how music (esp. violins) create a mood to when am I gonna finally finish reading that Stephen King novel I've had for 6 months now. That was day one. Day 2, 3, and the beginnings of 4 include the thought process of sex, sex, sex, sex, cars, sex, guns, sex, sex, sex. You get the picture. I've found if I don't unleash the beast it simply takes over until it gets it's way, kind of like a bratty child or a dictator. Either way I'm looking for a release, just I can't bring myself to do it just yet, I'd spoil the wait with my predictable methods and empty passion. It just can't hold a candle to the emulation it so desperately tries to create. In conclusion, you simple can never find a 100% substitute for the real thing, esp. if baby oil is somewhow involved ;-P