Some Things are Better Than Sex

So true, though I will admit, I may have to admit that I'm a bit out of touch (no pun intended) with the whole sex thing. I mean, I don't let my mind off the hook; it stays as active as ever, but in reality, it's been a minute. I will say this, there are things that I know of, that are actually better than bad sex, we'll go with that. Not too many things can be as satisfying as ... I need to stop before I go into the full description of what I think would constitute good sex; suffice it to say warm butter and drizzled honey play a part in it. That being surrendered; I will say that my new "Are You Kidding, Coma Inducer" comforter may very well meet the standard of surpassing mediocre sex - - at least from what I remember; and it's color is frosted chocolate, so there you go. Boom. I may never leave my bed again.

To be honest, and I mean this, I won't be bringing any warm butter or honey to my bed any time soon with or without this comforter, but I think the man who even suggested it may end up on the floor in the downstairs closet -- and I don't have a downstairs closet; let that sink in for a minute. No one is going to bring water near my comforter, let alone anything that could stain it or cause one fluffy plump foo-foo fiber to be less foo than it is at this very minute. I can't believe my mind is allowing my hands to be free so I can even type these words - - but I just needed to express my genuine and utter love for my new friend. I hope Naked Bearded Man finds it as rewardingly pleasant as I do; he may not even be necessary at this point. You just don't understand the full capturing power of this comforter; I may not be able to use enough alluring adjectives to be sufficient in my explanation of it. It may be one of those soft as a cloud things that you can't express to anyone who hasn't been inside of a cloud. I may take this comforter to Heaven with me just incase there isn't one up that way.

The moment I found the thing I had to have it. Now I'm calling it a thing - - it needs a name, but now I'm thinking I can't call it a he because of Naked Bearded Man, and I won't ever sleep with a woman, so that's not going to work. I suppose I could use a neutral name for it; maybe Quinn. Quinn it is - - and suddenly I'm thinking of Brian "Q" Quinn, the American comedian "outta" New York City. He's really funny -- and yes, he fits the TYPE of man that I like, so there you go, the new comforter is going to be named Quinn, and I hope Naked Bearded Man and Quinn don't mind me sharing my time, space, energy, mind, thoughts, dreams, caress, and passion between them. If one or the other of them do -- no, never mind, I'll never give up Quinn! Not going to happen. Some things are just simply better than, feel better than, look better than, smell better than, move and flow better than other things - - Fact.

I won't lie and say Quinn was cheap, it wasn't. Nope, but it was one of those things when you see it you say "This is going to happen", something akin to when Fat Bastard shouts out "Get into my belly" in Austin Powers, you just know you have to have it -- it must be, and it will be, and there's nothing going to stop you from making it happen; so it happens. I saw, I shopped, I conquered. That simple. Now, Quinn and I will spend the rest of our lives together in extreme bliss, warmth; a caressing Heavenly existence that can only be understood from underneath it. At least now when I do make it out of the bed, out of the house, and into the hard, harsh, and hostile world, anyone who reads my blogs will understand why I am still smiling through it all; Quinn. How did I not find it years ago? Was it out there and I just didn't know? Could I be so amaurotic? I must be. Thank you Internet. Thank you DuckDuckGo.

So yeah, there's that, there's me in my fluffy, poofy, tiffany, glamourous, and magnificent Quinn - - together now; not alone, Ginger will be there to make sure I do actually wake up and feed her, take her out, and let her do her thing before we both return to our bed and snuggle bunny up to our new bestie. I've already told Jeannie I have a new best friend. It's just Quinn can do things for me and to me that Jeannie could never be allowed and to be honest, she's a Democrat, it could never really work out even if we were gay - - Quinn is big enough if Jeannie, my three kids, and probably another dog or two wanted to snuggle at the same time, we could all do that - - then all of us would have silly and unimaginablely asinine grins on our faces. There just can't be another more satisfying reason to be this happy - - I mean without warm butter and honey; but that can happen in the future maybe, just not anywhere close to Quinn. I have my boundaries. I know my boundaries. Believe it or not.