freakin exhausted. 2 1/2 hours till departure for Vienna from London. Can’t find anywhere to nap. Moving around the crowds just to keep awake.
some strange things about my flight from Toronto to London:
served dinner at 10pm which included two desserts.
complimentary socks and toothbrush (which I first mistook for a tampon)
arrived at 8:15 local time, 3:15am my time. catch up body. fuck you circadian rhythms. so what if i slept from 1-3am my time. i landed on a fresh, cheery morning, 81/2 hours old. Ahhhhh… double espresso and two straight smokes.
weird breakfast of rubbery eggs, giant sausage AND back bacon, sickly sweet and starchy baked beans. Toast is normal. Don’t mess with toast.
English boys providing eye candy while smoking and lounging in the sun outside terminal three. Men. Men. Men. Tight faded jeans, crotch and ass-fitted, curves and suggestive bumps. Exposed legs, arm muscles, triangle of chest extended down from neck, hint of body hair, hint of muscle and musk, display of sex appeal. Pulled by an invisible string attached to my libido, I’m pulled first one direction, then another, each time as consuming, as believable. I want, I want morphs into the idea, delusion of a need.
t-2 hours to departure.
Oh Thomas! I do love reading your graphic descriptions of eye candy! Keep them cumming!