the pros and cons of a business suit


I sit down with Chris after designing the wrldmrine cooperate page. I spend hours on the internet looking for things regale and business like. I cut and paste and crop 1,000 pictures of business men with business suites and business cars, and business suitcase... and they mean business. I place them in front of Hellenistic like pillar. I place them on large steps that lead to large buildings that I have never been in. I imagine the stock exchange. I imagine TV reporters waiting for the verdict. 1,000 business men scowling, moving forward, hailing cabs, catching trains, passing hotdog vendors and sultry looking women who are sure to put out... the I design a nice banner for the site as well. It is very professional looking. An information tab, a contact tab, a link to the NYSE, something in Japanese, because Japanese are pretty business like, except when they are throwing themselves in front of trains.... So this is our wrldmrine cooperate page. I am presenting it to Chris, who should be happy, but he is watching sports center. He is watching March madness. “Holy shit, Gonzaga is out! Clayton had them picked to win the whole thing.” That I nice Chris, but have seen my business men, have you seen the cooperation? There is more Chris, there is so much more. Click on contact us... I dare you Chris, click on it and see what happens. Another concept another wrldmrine site. The wrldmrine porn-like-Britney-spears-fanzine-minus-Britney-Spears like site. Hot pink and stupid. Yes it is brilliant don’t you think?
“Georgia Tech is going to win the whole fucking thing?” he yells at the 200 inch TV screen.
Yes I must admit I like the violent shift from business to pleasure. What an extreme. What a trick. What a mockery. One minute you are trying to figure us out? You might say to your self, “self, who are these guys, they mean business.” Then with one click you are grabbing your nuts... holy sluts.


There is a man on TV. He is Doctor who has conducted an experiment with dying people. After hand picking 200 terminally ill people, this doctor then started them on a little diet. It is has something to do with the bodies acid levels, alkalizing and regeneration. Yes that is it, was all about cell regeneration. There are wars going on inside of our body, inside of our cells, the anti-oxidants are in heavy battle against he free radicals. The free radicals are sort of anarchy like political group that want to bring down the strictly regulated immune system the cells are front line, but need constant supplies, “We can win the war if we have supplies!” They scream. They need more funding apparently. But I thought the year was 2004, and we have the most inflated defense budget ever known to man, why can’t we get our troops what they need.

Vitamin A, B, C, D, E, K,
Folic acid

The man is happy and energetic and confident. I check his eyes for crow’s feet. He looks young for a doctor. He looks younger than me. And he is telling us that we all need to drink more green tea. “Yes, Green Tea! I have that!” I then get up and steal one of my roommates green tea packets, open it up and sprinkle it upon my cereal. Out of 200 patients in the Doctors experiment, only eight past away, but at least they looked much younger.

[More later, actually sleeping later]

Everything is just how I remember it. Her tits come down in that ski slope shape. I take my fingers and imagine a snowboarder dropping in off of her collar bone. He is sort of resting there, most likely dropped off by some sort of helicopter tour. He his looking down at the mountain in front of him, picking his line, right before he drops in. I imagine Alaska. Then with my fingers, I sort of do a one inch hope, (dropping in) and begin to “s” curve them down the snowy slope of her breast. My fingers spot up a head, a nice little kicker of a nipple, the nipple is growing so I decide to speed check once or twice because I don’t want to over shoot the landing. Off the nipple I spin a three-sixty. Which twists my arm and wrist up, so I sort quickly act like it is a three-sixty, then when no one is looking twist my fingers back around so that the snowboarder still looks normal. I roll down the flats of her stomach in a straight line. I don’t want the ride to be over too quickly so I turn on the slow motion, but since slow motion is used for tricks I decide to pop a one-eighty over the whale back of her belly button gap, (I learned my lesson with the three-sixty.) I am now riding switch all the way into the tree line up a head, I quickly butter my board around, and enter.

Everything is just how I remembered it. I drop my head down between her legs. Pulling the hood of her clit back with my forefinger and thumb, exposing the thing she wants me to touch most and I dive in... She tells me to slow, “nice and slow” almost like I am just sitting there, just a tongue for her to move against. She begins to gyrate her hips and press herself into me. She comes almost immediately, which is rare. And I don’t know what to do. I thought the main event was yet. “fuck, me she says. “ she is done, but she is wet. I don’t have to wait for her, I can just pump away and let anything I want to enter my mind, enter. I take the head of my cock, and rub it up and down once across her pussy lips until they separate... about 20 strokes and it happens.

[Rolling over]

I should be at work. I should get my shit together. I could/should mean business. I should be eating vitamins. There battles going on inside of me. don’t I care about the battles? I need to replenish my zinc. But I won’t. You can take all the vitamins you want, take them, eat them, and jam them down your face. I don’t care. Fuck work. Sitting here in bed, next to her, her arm draping it’s self across my stomach. Her head on my shoulder, hair spilling out and over the pillow like a gunshot wound. I tell you I am alive. I am born.

nigga i'm rrryatch!