Alien Invasion

Last night I had a very long, very vivid sex dream about the Matriarch Benezia.

In case you do not know how retarded this is, here is a picture of the Matriarch Benezia:

Yes. Not only is she totally old, but she is also a BLUE VIDEO GAME ALIEN CHICK DRESSED LIKE MALEFICENT who takes us back to 2005 to ask the question: "Whatcha gonna do with all that breast [by which I mean] all that breast inside that shirt?"

I do not know where to begin. I've had girl sex dreams before. I've even had a sci-fi sex dream before where I had my way with a space marine I held at (ray)gunpoint. But this conflagration of lame pervertedness is unacceptable, and I refuse to sit idly while my subconscious plays holodeck at the expense of my self-respect.

You may be wondering if I happened to play my space video games for infinity hours this weekend and the answer is "MAYBE!" but I also did supercool human being things like see an opera, learn choreography to a Spice Girls song, and eat like... three giant wedges of cheese. Yes, it is for these things that I pay New York real estate prices.

The point is, I am a happening dude who all the boys love -- you can find them in my yard near the milkshake machine (GO AWAY, 2005!) -- so I do not need to get my jollies (yuck) with evil, post-menopausal sorceresses... FROM SPACE! This is not a fantasy of mine, so you can all keep being my friend. I don't even know why I brought this up in the first place. In conclusion, the only alien chick I would sleep with is Isobel from Roswell and only if she made me, which she totally would.

Zzzzzzing!

I keep having sex dreams, it's so annoying. Every time I have one, there are annoying people in them that get all up in our way and then when we're finally able to get on with it I wake up and smash my alarm clock to bits like "SCREW YOU ALARM CLOCK, MORE LIKE ALARM COCKBLOCK!"

This morning, it was with a sexy blonde quiddich player (DON'T make fun of me, in my brain quiddich players look like rugby players) and it was interupted by a Toby Keith concert. I'm pretty sure this always happens because my subconscious is telling me how I have emotional problems, but dammit, subconscious, I already know and since I'm not living it up in my life, let me do it in my dreams, stop trying to fix everything!

Anyway, tell all your friends to read my blog because it's such a wonderland of introspection.

Also, I wanted to show you guys something. I wrote an article for that website Best Gay Blogs, which has recently restructured itself. It's new look and feel is still in its infancy, but I'm now a staff writer there. My first article sucks a lot because I wrote it in a hurry, but it's about having a major crush on a stranger who's blog your read, and I'm an expert because it happened to me, but I'm not telling you who. Anyway, I'm pretty sure for a lot of you, that site's not going to be your one stop spot to shop for all your blog-reading needs, but if you're not worried about your wife scanning your web history and seeing a gay website, go read my little piece. It's all about me.